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Iago. Give it me.
Emil. What will you do with it, that you have been so earnest To have me filch it?
Iago. Why, what's that to you ?
Emil. If it be not for some purpose of import, Give it me again: Poor lady! she'll run mad, When she shall lack it.
Iago. Be not you known of't; I have use for it.
I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Ha ha! false to me?
Iago. Why, how now, general? no more of that?
Oth. O now, for ever,
Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Pride, pomp, and circumstance, of glorious war!
Iago. Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief,
Oth. I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.
If it be that,-
Oth. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives:
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!
Iago. Pray, be content.
O, blood, Iago, blood!
Swallow them up.-Now, by yond' marble heaven,
I here engage my words.
That Cassio's not alive.
Iago. My friend is dead; 'tis done, at your request: But let her live.
SCENE IV.-The same.
Enter DESDEMONA, and EMILIA.
Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia ?
Des. Believe me :-And, but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness As jealous creatures are, it were enough
To put him to ill thinking.
Is he not jealous?
Des. Who, he? I think, the sun, where he was born, Drew all such humors from him.
Oth. Well, my good lady;-[Aside.]-O, hardness to dissemble!How do you, Desdemona ?
Des. Well, my good lord
Oth. Give me your hand: 'Tis a good hand, A frank one.
Des. You may, indeed, say so;
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
Oth. A liberal hand: The hearts, of old, gave hands : But our new heraldry is-hands, not hearts.
Des. I cannot speak of this. Come now your promise.
Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
Here, my lord.
Oth. That which I gave you.
I have it not about me.
No, indeed, my lord.
That is a fault.
Did an Egyptian to my mother give ;
The thoughts of people: she told her, while she kept it,
Is it possible?
Oth. 'Tis true; There's magic in the web of it.
Indeed! is't true?
Des. Why do you speak so startingly and rash ?
Oth. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out of the way?
Des. It is not lost; But what and if it were?
Des. I say, it is not lost.
Fetch't, let me see it.
Des. Why, so I car, sir, but I will not now;
Oth. Fetch me that handkerchief: my mind misgives.
Des. Come, come;
You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
Oth. The handkerchief,
Oth. The handkerchief,-
Des. In sooth,
You are to blame.
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
A man that, all his time,
Hath founded his good fortune on your love,
Des. I ne'er saw this before.
Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
Is not this man jealous?
Enter IAGO, and CASSIO.
Iago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't;
Des. How now, good Cassio? what's the news with
My advocation is not now in tune;
As I have spoken for you all my best,
Alas! thrice-gentle Cassio,
For my free speech! You must a while be patient:
Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.
Iago. Is my lord angry?
He went hence but now,
Something of moment, then: I will go meet him:
Des. I pr'ythee do so.-Something, sure, of state,- [Exit IAGO Either from Venice; or some unhatch'd practice, Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
Hath puddled his clear spirit: and, in such cases,
Nay, we must think, men are not gods;
As fit the bridal.
Emil. Pray heaven, it be state matters, as you think,
Des. Alas, the day! I never gave him cause.
Des. I will go seek Othello.—Cassio, walk hereabout:
[Exeunt DESDEMONA, and EMILIA.
The catastrophe of this noble domestic tragedy, is foreshadowed in our extracts. Othello, convinced of his wife's dishonor, is instigated by rage and jealousy to take her life. But the innocence of Desdemona is proved by the confession of Emilia, and the discovery of Iago's treachery. Othello, overwhelmed with grief and remorse destroys himself, and Iago is delivered a prisoner into the hands of justice.