Nor fhall not, whilft 'is in my cuftody.

Otb. Ha!

Iago. Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealoufie;
It is a green-ey'd monfter, which doth make
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in blifs,
Who certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er,

Who dotes, yet doubts; fufpects, yet ftrongly loves!
Oth. Oh mifery!

Jago. Poor and content, is rich, and rich enough;
But riches endless, is as poor as winter,

To him that ever fears he fhall be poor.
Good heaven the fouls of all my tribe defend
From jealoufie!

Oth. Why? why is this?

Think'ft thou I'd make a life of jealousie?

To follow ftill the changes of the moon
With fresh fufpicions? No; to be once in doubt is
At once to be refolv'd. Exchange me for a goat,
When I fhall turn the business of my foul

To fuch exfuffolate and blown furmifes,

Matching thy inference. "Tis not to make me jealous,
To fay my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of fpeech, fings, plays, and dances well
Where virtue is, thefe are moft virtuous,
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The fmalleft fear, or doubt of her revolt;
For fhe had eyes, and chofe me. No, Lago,
I'll fee before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this,
Away at once with love, and jealoufie.

Lago. I'm glad of this; for now I shall have reason
To fhew the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit. Therefore, as I'm bound,
Receive it from me. I fpeak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife, obferve her well with Caffio,
Wear your eye, thus; not jealous, nor fecure;
I would not have your free and noble nature
Out of felf-bounty be abus'd; look to't.
I know our country difpofition well;

In Venice they do let heav'n fee the pranks

They dare not fhew their hufbands; their beft confcience Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.

Oth. Doft thou say fo?

Lago. She did deceive her father, marrying you; And when the feem'd to fhake, and fear your looks, She lov'd them moft.

Oth. And fo fhe did.

Iago. Go to then;

She that fo young could give out fuch a seeming

To feal her father's eyes up, close as oak

He thought 'twas witchcraft but I'm much to blame : I humbly do beseech you of your pardon

For too much loving you.

Oth. I'm bound to you for ever.

Iago. I fee this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
Oth. Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago. Trust me, I fear it has:

I hope you will confider what is fpoke

Comes from my love. But I do fee you're mov'd
I am to pray you not to ftrain my speech

To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach,

Than to fufpicion.

Oth. I will not.

Iago. Should you do fo, my Lord,

My fpeech would fall into fuch vile fuccefs,

Which my thoughts aim not at. Caffio's my worthy friend, My Lord, I fee you're mov'd

Oth. No, not much mov'd

I do not think but Defdemona's honest.

Lago. Long live the fo; and long live you to think fo! Oth. And yet how nature erring from it felf

Iago. Ay, there's the point; -as (to be bold with you) Not to affect many propofed matches

Of her own clime, complexion and degree,

Whereto we fee in all things nature tends:

Foh! one may fmell, in fuch, a will moft rank,
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.

But, pardon me, I do not in pofition

Diftin&tly speak of her, tho' I

may fear

Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And haply fo repent.

Ob. Farewel, farewel;

If more thou doft perceive, let me know more:

Set on thy wife t' obferve.

Leave me, lago.

Lago, My Lord, I take my leave.

Oth. Why did I marry?

This honeft creature, doubtless,

[Going.

Sees, and knows more, much more than he unfolds.
Iago. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honour
To fcan this thing no farther; leave it to time:
Altho' 'tis fit that Caffio have his place,
For fure he fills it up with great ability,
Yet if you please to put him off a while,
You fhall by that perceive him, and his means;
Note if your lady ftrain his entertainment
With any strong, or vehement importunity;
Much will be feen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too bufie in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am,)
And hold her free, I do befeech your Honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.

Iago. I once more take my leave.

SCENE VI.

Manet Othello.
Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I prove her haggard,
Tho' that her jeffes were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whiftle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm black,
And have not thofe foft parts of conversation
That chamberers have; or for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years, yet that's not much-
She's gone, I am abus'd, and my relief
Must be to loath her. Oh the curfe of marriage!
That we can call thefe delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,
Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

[Exit.

For

For others ufe. Yet 'tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they lefs than the bafe;
'Tis deftiny unfhunnable like death.

Even then, this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes :
Enter Defdemona and Emilia.

If the be falfe, oh then heav'n mocks it felf:
I'll not believe't.

Def. How now, my dear Othello?

Your dinner, and the generous inlanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.
Oth. I am to blame.

Def. Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?

Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Def. Why, that's with watching, 'twill away again ; Let me but bind it hard, within this hour

It will be well.

Otb. Your napkin is too little; [She drops ber bandkerchief. Let it alone: come, I'll go in with you.

Def. I am very forry that you are not well.

SCENE VII, Manet Æmilia. Emil. I am glad I have found this napkin here: This was her first remembrance from the Moor; My wayward hufband hath a hundred times

Woo'd me to fteal it. But the fo loves the token,
(For he conjur'd her, the fhould ever keep it)
That the referves it evermore about her,

To kifs and talk to. I will have the work
Ta'en out, and give it to Lago, but

"

What he'll do with it, heaven knows, not I:
I nothing, but to please his fantafie.

Enter lago.

Jago. How now? what do you here alone?

[Exeunt,

mil. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Jago. You have thing for me?

It is a common thing

Emil. Ha?

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

mil. Oh, is that all ? what will you give me now

For

For that fame handkerchief?

Iago. What handkerchief?
Emil. What handkerchief?

Why, that the Moor firft gave to Desdemona,
That which fo often you did bid me steal.
Iago. Hatt ftolen it from her?

Emil. No; but she let it drop by negligence,
And to th' advantage, I being here, took't up:
Look, here it is.

Iago. A good wench, give it me.

Emil. What will you do with't, you have been fo earneft To have me filch it?

Iago. Why, what's that to you?

[Snatching it.

mil. If't be not for fome purpose of import, Give't me again. Poor lady, the'll run mad, When the fhall lack it.

Iago. Be not you known on't:

I have use for it. Go, leave me

[Exit Æmilia,

I will in Caffio's lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are, to the jealous, confirmations ftrong,
As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poisons :
Dang'rous conceits are in their nature poisons,
Which at the first are fearce found to distaste;
But with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of fulphur.-I did fay fo,

[Obferving Othello feemingly difturb'd.

SCENE VIII. Enter Othello.

Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowfie fyrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that fweet fleep,
Which thou ow'd'ft yesterday.

Oth. Ha! falfe to me!

lago. Why, how now, General? no more of that. Oth. Avant, be gone; thou'ft fet me on the rack. I fwear 'tis better to be much abus'd,

Than but to know a little.

Jago. How, my Lord ?

Orb What fenfe had I, in her ftol'n hours of luft?