Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice/Act 3 Scene 4
Scæna Quarta.
Enter Desdemona, Æmilia, and Clown.
Des.
Do you know Sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lyes?
Clow.
I dare not say he lies any where.
Des.
Why man?
Clo.
He's a Soldier, and for me to say a Souldier lyes, 'tis stabbing.
Des.
Go too: where lodges he?
Clo.
To tell you where he lodges, is to tel you where I lye.
Des.
Can any thing be made of this?
Clo.
I know not where he lodges, and for mee to deuise a lodging, and say he lies heere, or he lies there, were to lye in mine owne throat.
Des.
Can you enquire him out? and be edified by report?
Clo.
I will Catechize the world for him, that is, make Questions, and by them answer.
Des.
Seeke him, bidde him come hither: tell him, I haue moou'd my Lord on his behalfe, and hope all will be well.
Clo.
To do this, is within the compasse of mans Wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing it. Exit Clo.
Des.
Where should I loose the Handkerchiefe, Æmilia?
Æmil.
I know not Madam.
Des.
Beleeue me, I had rather haue lost my purse
Full of Cruzadoes. And but my Noble Moore
Is true of minde, and made of no such basenesse,
As iealious Creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill-thinking.
Æmil.
Is he not iealious?
Des.
Who, he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne,
Drew all such humors from him.
Æmil.
Looke where he comes.
Enter Othello.
Des.
I will not leaue him now, till Cassio be
Call'd to him. How is't with you, my Lord?
Oth.
Well my good Lady. Oh hardnes to dissemble!
How do you, Desdemona?
Des.
Well, my good Lord.
Oth.
Giue me your hand.
This hand is moist, my Lady.
Des.
It hath felt no age, nor knowne no sorrow.
Oth.
This argues fruitfulnesse, and liberall heart:
Hot, hot, and moyst. This hand of yours requires
A sequester from Liberty: Fasting, and Prayer,
Much Castigation, Exercise deuout,
For heere's a yong, and sweating Diuell here
That commonly rebels: 'Tis a good hand,
A franke one.
Des.
You may (indeed) say so:
For 'twas that hand that gaue away my heart.
Oth.
A liberall hand. The hearts of old, gaue hands:
But our new Heraldry is hands, not hearts.
Des.
I cannot speake of this:
Come, now your promise.
Oth.
What promise, Chucke?
Des.
I haue sent to bid Cassio come speake with you.
Oth.
I haue a salt and sorry Rhewme offends me:
Lend me thy Handkerchiefe.
Des.
Heere my Lord.
Oth.
That which I gaue you.
Des.
I haue it not about me.
Oth.
Not?
Des.
No indeed, my Lord.
Oth.
That's a fault: That Handkerchiefe
Did an Ægyptian to my Mother giue:
She was a Charmer, and could almost read
The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father
Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it,
Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye
Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt
After new Fancies. She dying, gaue it me,
And bid me (when my Fate would haue me Wiu'd)
To giue it her. I did so; and take heede on't,
Make it a Darling, like your precious eye:
To loose't, or giue't away, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.
Des.
Is't possible?
Oth.
'Tis true: There's Magicke in the web of it:
A Sybill that had numbred in the world
The Sun to course, two hundred compasses,
In her Prophetticke furie sow'd the Worke:
The Wormes were hallowed, that did breede the Silke,
And it was dyde in Mummey, which the Skilfull
Conseru'd of Maidens hearts.
Des.
Indeed? Is't true?
Oth.
Most veritable, therefore looke too't well.
Des.
Then would to Heauen, that I had neuer seene't?
Oth.
Ha? wherefore?
Des.
Why do you speake so startingly, and rash?
Oth.
Is't lost? Is't gon? Speak, is't out o'th'way?
Des.
Blesse vs.
Oth.
Say you?
Des.
It is not lost: but what and if it were?
Oth.
How?
Des.
I say it is not lost.
Oth.
Fetcht, let me see't.
Des.
Why so I can: but I will not now:
This is a tricke to put me from my suite,
Pray you let Cassio be receiu'd againe.
Oth.
Fetch me the Handkerchiefe,
My minde mis-giues.
Des.
Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more sufficient man.
Oth.
The Handkerchiefe.
Des.
A man that all his time
Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue;
Shar'd dangers with you.
Oth.
The Handkerchiefe.
Des.
Insooth, you are too blame.
Oth.
Away. Exit Othello.
Æmil.
Is not this man iealious?
Des.
I neu'r saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchiefe,
I am most vnhappy in the losse of it.
Æmil.
'Tis not a yeare or two shewes vs a man:
They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food,
They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full
They belch vs.
Enter Iago, and Cassio.
Iago.
There is no other way: 'tis she must doo't:
And loe the happinesse: go, and importune her.
Des.
How now (good Cassio) what's the newes with you?
Cassio.
Madam, my former suite. I do beseech you,
That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe
Exist, and be a member of his loue,
Whom I, with all the Office of my heart
Intirely honour, I would not be delayd.
If my offence, be of such mortall kinde,
That nor my Seruice past, nor present Sorrowes,
Nor purpos'd merit in futurity,
Can ransome me into his loue againe,
But to know so, must be my benefit:
So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content,
And shut my selfe vp in some other course
To Fortunes Almes.
Des.
Alas (thrice-gentle Cassio)
My Aduocation is not now in Tune;
My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him,
Were he in Fauour, as in Humour alter'd.
So helpe me euery spirit sanctified,
As I haue spoken for you all my best,
And stood within the blanke of his displeasure
For my free speech. You must awhile be patient:
What I can do, I will: and more I will
Then for my selfe, I dare. Let that suffice you.
Iago.
Is my Lord angry?
Æmil.
He went hence but now:
And certainly in strange vnquietnesse.
Iago.
Can he be angry? I haue seen the Cannon
When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre,
And like the Diuell from his very Arme
Puff't his owne Brother: And is he angry?
Something of moment then: I will go meet him,
There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.Exit.
Des.
I prythee do so. Something sure of State,
Either from Venice, or some vnhatch'd practise
Made demonstrable heere in Cyprus, to him,
Hath pudled his cleare Spirit: and in such cases,
Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things,
Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so.
For let our finger ake, and it endues
Our other healthfull members, euen to a sense
Of paine. Nay, we must thinke men are not Gods,
Nor of them looke for such obseruancie
As fits the Bridall. Beshrew me much, Æmilia,
I was (vnhandsome Warrior, as I am)
Arraigning his vnkindnesse with my soule:
But now I finde, I had suborn'd the Witnesse,
And he's Indited falsely.
Æmil.
Pray heauen it bee
State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception,
Nor no Iealious Toy, concerning you.
Des.
Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cause.
Æmil.
But Iealious soules will not be answer'd so;
They are not euer iealious for the cause,
But iealious, for they're iealious. It is a Monster
Begot vpon it selfe, borne on it selfe.
Des.
Heauen keepe the Monster from Othello's mind.
Æmil.
Lady, Amen.
Des.
I will go seeke him. Cassio, walke heere about:
If I doe finde him fit, Ile moue your suite,
And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.Exit.
Cas.
I humbly thanke your Ladyship.
Enter Bianca.
Bian.
'Saue you (Friend Cassio.)
Cassio.
What make you from home?
How is't with you, my most faire Bianca?
Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house.
Bian.
And I was going to your Lodging, Cassio.
What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights?
Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres
More tedious then the Diall, eight score times?
Oh weary reck'ning.
Cassio.
Pardon me, Bianca:
I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest,
But I shall in a more continuate time
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca
Take me this worke out.
Bianca.
Oh Cassio, whence came this?
This is some Token from a newer Friend,
To the felt-Absence: now I feele a Cause:
Is't come to this? Well, well.
Cassio.
Go too, woman:
Throw your vilde gesses in the Diuels teeth,
From whence you haue them. You are iealious now,
That this is from some Mistris, some remembrance;
No, in good troth Bianca.
Bian.
Why, who's is it?
Cassio.
I know not neither:
I found it in my Chamber,
I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded
(As like enough it will) I would haue it coppied:
Take it, and doo't, and leaue me for this time.
Bian.
Leaue you? Wherefore?
Cassio.
I do attend heere on the Generall,
And thinke it no addition, nor my wish
To haue him see me woman'd.
Bian.
Why, I pray you?
Cassio.
Not that I loue you not.
Bian.
But that you do not loue me.
I pray you bring me on the way a little,
And say, if I shall see you soone at night?
Cassio.
'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
For I attend heere: But Ile see you soone.
Bian.
'Tis very good: I must be circumstanc'd. Exeunt omnes.