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good wench; give it me. Emilia

What will you do with ā€™t, that you have been so earnest
To have me filch it?

Iago Snatching it. Why, whatā€™s that to you? Emilia

If it be not for some purpose of import,
Giveā€™t me again: poor lady, sheā€™ll run mad
When she shall lack it.

Iago

Be not acknown on ā€™t; I have use for it.
Go, leave me. Exit Emilia.
I will in Cassioā€™s lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poison:
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,
But with a little act upon the blood.
Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:
Look, where he comes!

Re-enter Othello.

Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou owedst yesterday.

Othello Ha! ha! false to me? Iago Why, how now, general! no more of that. Othello

Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:
I swear ā€™tis better to be much abused
Than but to knowā€™t a little.

Iago How now, my lord! Othello

What sense had I of her stolā€™n hours of lust?
I sawā€™t not, thought it not, it harmā€™d not me:
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
I found not Cassioā€™s kisses on her lips:
He that is robbā€™d, not wanting what is stolā€™n,
Let him not knowā€™t, and heā€™s not robbā€™d at all.

Iago I am sorry to hear this. Othello

I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!
And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
The immortal Joveā€™s dead clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othelloā€™s occupationā€™s gone!

Iago Isā€™t possible, my lord? Othello

Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,
Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:
Or by the worth of manā€™s eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath!

Iago Isā€™t come to this? Othello

Make me to seeā€™t; or, at the least, so prove it,
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!

Iago My noble lordā ā€” Othello

If thou dost slander her and torture me,
Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
On horrorā€™s head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
Greater than that.

Iago

O grace! O heaven forgive me!
Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
God be wiā€™ you; take mine office. O wretched fool.
That livest to make thine honesty a vice!
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,
To be direct and honest is not safe.
I thank you for this profit; and from hence
Iā€™ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.

Othello Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest. Iago

I should be wise, for honestyā€™s a fool
And loses that it works for.

Othello

By the world,
I think my wife be honest and think she is not;
I think that thou art just and think thou art not.
Iā€™ll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
As Dianā€™s visage, is now begrimed and black
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
Iā€™ll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!

Iago

I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:
I do repent me that I put it to you.
You would be satisfied?

Othello Would! nay, I will. Iago

And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape onā ā€”
Behold her toppā€™d?

Othello Death and damnation! O! Iago

It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
More than their own! What then? how then?
What shall I say? Whereā€™s satisfaction?
It is impossible you should see this,
Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
If imputation and strong circumstances,
Which lead directly to the door of truth,
Will give you satisfaction, you may haveā€™t.

Othello Give me a living reason sheā€™s disloyal. Iago

I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enterā€™d in this cause so far,
Prickā€™d toā€™t by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;
And, being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:
One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say ā€œSweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;ā€
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry ā€œO sweet creature!ā€ and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluckā€™d up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sighā€™d, and kissā€™d; and then
Cried ā€œCursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!ā€

Othello O monstrous! monstrous! Iago Nay, this was but his dream. Othello

But this denoted a foregone conclusion:
ā€™Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.

Iago

And this may help to thicken other proofs
That do demonstrate thinly.

Othello Iā€™ll tear her all to pieces. Iago

Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wifeā€™s hand?

Othello I gave her such a one; ā€™twas my first gift. Iago

I know not that; but such a handkerchiefā ā€”
I am sure it was your wifeā€™sā ā€”did I to-day
See Cassio wipe his beard with.

Othello If it be thatā ā€” Iago

If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.

Othello

O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
Now do I see ā€™tis true.

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