The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in blifs, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; Who doats, yet doubts: fufpects, yet ftrongly loves! Iago. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough; But riches endlefs, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he fhall be poor. · Good heav'n! the fouls of all my tribe defend From jealoufy! Oth. Why? why is this? Think'ft thou, I'd make a life of jealoufy? To fuch exfufflicate and blown furmifes, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous, Iago. I'm glad of this; for now. I fhall have reafon With franker fpirit. Therefore, as I'm bound,ng af They dare not fhew their husbands; their best confcience Oth. Doft thou say so? Iago. 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. She, that, fo young, could give out fuch a feeming To feal her father's eyes up, close as oak He thought, 'twas witchcraft-but I'm much to blame: I humbly do befeech you of your pardon, For too much loving you. Oth. I'm bound to you for ever. Iago. I fee, this hath a little dafh'd your fpirits. Iago. Truft 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 strain 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, Oth. No, not much mov'd I do not think, but Defdemona's honeft. Jago. Long live fhe fo! and long live you to think fo! Oth. And yet, how nature erring from itself Iago. Ay, there's the point;-as (to be bold with you) Not to affect many propofed matches Of her own chime, complexion and degree, Oth. Farewel, farewel; If more thou dost perceive, let me know more : This honeft creature, doubtless, [Going Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. Manet Othello. [Exit. Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honefty, For others' ufe. Yet 'tis the plague of Great ones; 'Tis destiny unfhunnable, like death. Ev'n then, this forked plague is fated to us, Enter Defdemona and Æmilia. If fhe be falfe, oh, then heav'n mocks itself: Def. How now, my dear Othello? Your dinner, and the generous iflanders, Def. Why do you speak fo faintly? 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. Oth. Your napkin is too little; [She drops her handkerchief. Let it alone: come, I'll go in with you. Def. I am very forry, that you are not well. [Exeunt. Manet Emilia. Emil. I am glad, I have found this napkin; To kifs and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out, Heav'n knows, not I: I nothing, but to please his fantafy. Enter Iago. Iago. How now? what do you here alone? It is a common thing Emil. Ha? Lago. To have a foolish wife. Emil N 2 Emil. Oh, is that all what will you give me now For that fame handkerchief? Iago. What handkerchief? Emil. What handkerchief? Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona; Amil. No; but fhe let it drop by negligence; Iago. A good wench, give it me. Emil.What will you do with't, you have been fo earnest To have me filch it? Iago. Why, what is that to you? [Snatching it. Emil. If't be not for fome purpofe of import,. Give't me again. Poor lady! fhe'll run mad, When the fhall lack it. Iago. Be not you known on't; I have ufe for it. Go, leave me [Exit Emil. I will in Caffio's lodging lofe this napkin, Burn like the mines of fulphur.-I did fay fo. Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora, Shall ever med'cine thee to that fweet sleep, Which thou hadft yesterday, Oth. Ha! falfe to me! Jago. Why, how now, General? no more of that. Oth, Avant! be gone thou'ft fet me on the rack: I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd, Than but to know a little, lago. How, my Lord? Oth |