Othello Page #15

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Enter BIANCA

BIANCA:

Save you, friend Cassio!

CASSIO:

What make you from home?

How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?

I' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.

BIANCA:

And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.

What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?

Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,

More tedious than the dial eight score times?

O weary reckoning!

CASSIO:

Pardon me, Bianca:

I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd:

But I shall, in a more continuate time,

Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,

Giving her DESDEMONA's handkerchief

Take me this work out.

BIANCA:

O Cassio, whence came this?

This is some token from a newer friend:

To the felt absence now I feel a cause:

Is't come to this? Well, well.

CASSIO:

Go to, woman!

Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,

From whence you have them. You are jealous now

That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:

No, in good troth, Bianca.

BIANCA:

Why, whose is it?

CASSIO:

I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber.

I like the work well: ere it be demanded--

As like enough it will--I'ld have it copied:

Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.

BIANCA:

Leave you! wherefore?

CASSIO:

I do attend here on the general;

And think it no addition, nor my wish,

To have him see me woman'd.

BIANCA:

Why, I pray you?

CASSIO:

Not that I love you not.

BIANCA:

But that you do not love me.

I pray you, bring me on the way a little,

And say if I shall see you soon at night.

CASSIO:

'Tis but a little way that I can bring you;

For I attend here: but I'll see you soon.

BIANCA:

'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.

Exeunt

ACT IV:

SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the castle.

Enter OTHELLO and IAGO

IAGO:

Will you think so?

OTHELLO:

Think so, Iago!

IAGO:

What,

To kiss in private?

OTHELLO:

An unauthorized kiss.

IAGO:

Or to be naked with her friend in bed

An hour or more, not meaning any harm?

OTHELLO:

Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!

It is hypocrisy against the devil:

They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,

The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.

IAGO:

So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip:

But if I give my wife a handkerchief,--

OTHELLO:

What then?

IAGO:

Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,

She may, I think, bestow't on any man.

OTHELLO:

She is protectress of her honour too:

May she give that?

IAGO:

Her honour is an essence that's not seen;

They have it very oft that have it not:

But, for the handkerchief,--

OTHELLO:

By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.

Thou said'st, it comes o'er my memory,

As doth the raven o'er the infected house,

Boding to all--he had my handkerchief.

IAGO:

Ay, what of that?

OTHELLO:

That's not so good now.

IAGO:

What,

If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?

Or heard him say,--as knaves be such abroad,

Who having, by their own importunate suit,

Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,

Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose

But they must blab--

OTHELLO:

Hath he said any thing?

IAGO:

He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,

No more than he'll unswear.

OTHELLO:

What hath he said?

IAGO:

'Faith, that he did--I know not what he did.

OTHELLO:

What? what?

IAGO:

Lie--

OTHELLO:

With her?

IAGO:

With her, on her; what you will.

OTHELLO:

Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when

they belie her. Lie with her! that's fulsome.

--Handkerchief--confessions--handkerchief!--To

confess, and be hanged for his labour;--first, to be

hanged, and then to confess.--I tremble at it.

Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing

passion without some instruction. It is not words

that shake me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips.

--Is't possible?--Confess--handkerchief!--O devil!--

Falls in a trance

IAGO:

Work on,

My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught;

And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,

All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord!

My lord, I say! Othello!

Enter CASSIO

How now, Cassio!

CASSIO:

What's the matter?

IAGO:

My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy:

This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.

CASSIO:

Rub him about the temples.

IAGO:

No, forbear;

The lethargy must have his quiet course:

If not, he foams at mouth and by and by

Breaks out to savage madness. Look he stirs:

Do you withdraw yourself a little while,

He will recover straight: when he is gone,

I would on great occasion speak with you.

Exit CASSIO

How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?

OTHELLO:

Dost thou mock me?

IAGO:

I mock you! no, by heaven.

Would you would bear your fortune like a man!

OTHELLO:

A horned man's a monster and a beast.

IAGO:

There's many a beast then in a populous city,

And many a civil monster.

OTHELLO:

Did he confess it?

IAGO:

Good sir, be a man;

Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked

May draw with you: there's millions now alive

That nightly lie in those unproper beds

Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.

O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,

To lip a wanton in a secure couch,

And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;

And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.

OTHELLO:

O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.

IAGO:

Stand you awhile apart;

Confine yourself but in a patient list.

Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief--

A passion most unsuiting such a man--

Cassio came hither: I shifted him away,

And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy,

Bade him anon return and here speak with me;

The which he promised. Do but encave yourself,

And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,

That dwell in every region of his face;

For I will make him tell the tale anew,

Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when

He hath, and is again to cope your wife:

I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;

Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,

And nothing of a man.

OTHELLO:

Dost thou hear, Iago?

I will be found most cunning in my patience;

But--dost thou hear?--most bloody.

IAGO:

That's not amiss;

But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?

OTHELLO retires

Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,

A housewife that by selling her desires

Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature

That dotes on Cassio; as 'tis the strumpet's plague

To beguile many and be beguiled by one:

He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain

From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:

Re-enter CASSIO

As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;

And his unbookish jealousy must construe

Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures and light behavior,

Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?

CASSIO:

The worser that you give me the addition

Whose want even kills me.

IAGO:

Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.

Speaking lower

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