Imatges de pàgina
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Breaks out to favage madness: look, he ftirs.
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover ftraight; when he is gone,

I would on great occafion speak with you. [Exit Caf.
How is it, General? have you not hurt
Oth. Doft thou mock me ?

Iago. I mock you not, by heav'n;

'Would would bear

you

your

your head?

fortunes like a man.

Oth. A horned man's a monfter, and a beast.

Iago. There's many a beaft, then, in a populous

city,

And many a civil monster

Oth. Did he confefs it?

Iago. Good Sir, be a man:

Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yoak'd,
May draw with you. Millions are now alive,
That nightly lie in those unproper beds,

Which they dear fwear peculiar. Your cafe is better.
Oh, 'tis the spight of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
To lip a Wanton in a fecure couch;

And to suppose her chafte. No, let me know,
And knowing what I am, I know what fhe fhall be.
Oth. Oh, thou art wife; 'tis certain.

Iago. Stand you a while apart,
Confine yourself but in' a patient lift.

While you were here, o'er-whelmed with your grief, (A paffion moft unfuiting fuch a man,) Caffio came hither. I fhifted him away,

And laid good 'fcuses on your ecstasy;

Bad him anon return, and here speak with me ;
The which he promis'd. 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 fay, but mark his gefture. Marry, patience;
Or I shall say, you are all in all in spleen,

And

And nothing of a man,

Oth. Doft thou hear, Iago?

I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But, doft thou hear, most bloody?

Iago. That's not amifs;

But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?

[Othello withdraws. Now will I queftion Caffio of Bianca,

A housewife, that, by felling her defires,
Buys herself bread and cloth. It is a creature,
That dotes on Caffio; as 'tis the ftrumpet's plague
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one;"
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excefs of laughter.-Here he comes-

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As he fall fmile, Othello fhall go mad;
And his unbook ifh jealousy must conftrue
Poor Caffio's fmiles, geftures, and light behaviour,
Quite in the wrong. How do you now, Lieutenant?
Caf. The worfer, that you give me the addition,
Whose want even kills me.

Iago. Ply Defdemona well, and you are sure on't; Now, if this fuit lay in Bianca's power, [Speaking lower. How quickly fhould you speed?

Caf. Alas, poor caitiff!

Oth. Look, how he laughs already.

Iago. I never knew a woman love man fo.

[Afide.

Caf. Alas poor rogue, I think, indeed, fhe loves me. Oth. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs out.

lago. Do you hear Caffio?

Oth. Now he importunes him
To tell it o'er: go to, well faid,
Iago. She gives it out that
Do you intend it!

[Afide.

well faid. [Afide.

you fhall marry her.

Caf.

Caf. Ha. ha, ha!

Oth. Do you triumph, Rogue? do you triumph?

[Afide. Caf. I marry her!-What? a cuftomer? pr'ythee, bear fome charity to my wit, do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. So, fo they laugh, that win.

[Afide.

Iago. Why, the Cry goes, that you shall marry her.
Caf. Pr'ythee, say truc.

Iago. I am a very villain else.

Oth. Have you scor'd me? well.

[Afide.

Caf. This is the monkey's own giving out the is perfuaded, I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promife.

Oth. Iago beckons me: now he begins the ftory.

[Afide. Caf. She was here even now: fhe haunts me in every place. I was the other day talking on the Seabank with certain Venetians, and thither comes the bauble, and falls me thus about my neck

Oth. Crying, Oh dear Caffio, as it were: his gefture imports it.

[Afide. Caf. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me, fo fhakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha!

Oth. Now he tells, how fhe pluckt him to my chamber: oh, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I fhall throw it to.

Caf. Well I must leave her company.

Jago. Before me! look, where he comes.

SCENE

Enter Bianca.

IV.

[Afide.

Caf. "T fum'd one: "T'S

IS fuch another fitchew! marry a per

What do you mean by this haunting of me?

Bian. Let the Devil and his Dam haunt you! what did you mean by that fame handkerchief, you gave

me

me even now? I was a fine fool to take it: I muft take out the work? A likely piece of work, that you fhould find it in your chamber, and know not who left it there. This is fome minx's token, and I must take out the work? there-give it your hobby-horse: wherefoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't. Caf. How now, my fweet Bianca? how now? how

now?

if

Oth. By heaven, that fhould be

my

handkerchief. [Afide.

Bian. If you'll come to fupper to-night, you may; you will not, come when you are next prepar'd'

for.

Iago, After her, after her.

Caf. I muft, fhe'll rail in the ftreets elfe.

Iago. Will you fup there?

Caf. Yes, I intend fo.

[Exit.

Iago. Well, I may chance to see you; for I would

very fain speak with you.

Caf. Prythee, come, will you?

Iago. Go to, Tay no more.

Oth.

SCENE

V.

Manent Othello, and Iago.

OW fhall I murder him, Iago?

Ho

Jago. Did you perceive, how he laugh'd at his vice?

Oth. Oh, Iago!

Jago. And did you fee the handkerchief?
Oth. Was that mine?

Iago. Yours, by this hand: and to fee how he

prizes the foolish woman your

wife

him, and he hath given it his whore.

-She gave it

Oth. I would have him nine years a killingA fine woman! a fair woman! a fweet woman Iago. Nay, you must forget That.

Oth. Ay, let her rot and perish, and be damn'd to

T

night;

night; for she shall not live. No, my heart is turn'd to ftone: I frike it, and it hurts my hand-Oh, the world hath not a fweeter creature. She might lie by an Emperor's fide and command him talks.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her, I do but say what she is so delicate with her needle. An admirable musician. -Oh, fhe will fing the favageness out of a bear: of fo high and plenteous wit and invention ! Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Oth. Oh, a thousand, a thousand times: And then of fo gentle condition!

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oth. Nay, that's certain.

But yet the pity of it, Iago-Oh, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.

Iago. If you are fo fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for if it touch not you, it comes near no body.

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Oth. I will chop her into meffes: cuckold me!
Iago. Oh, 'tis foul in her.

Oth. With mine officer !
Iago. That's fouler.

Oth. Get me fome poison, Iago, this night; I'll not expoftulate with her, left her body and her beauty unprovide my mind again; this night, Iago. Al Jago. Do it not with poison, ftrangle her in bed, Even in the bed fhe hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good:

The juftice of it pleases; very good.

Iago. And for Caffio, let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight. [A Trumpet within. Oth. Excellent good: What Trumpet is that fame ?

Iago. Something from Venice, fure. 'Tis Lodovico Come from the Duke: and, fee, your wife is with him.

SCENE

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