DESDEMONA
Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
All my abilities in thy behalf.

    EMILIA
Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,
As if the case were his.

    DESDEMONA
O, that’s an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
But I will have my lord and you again
As friendly as you were.

    CASSIO
                        Bounteous madam,
Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
He’s never any thing but your true servant.

    DESDEMONA
I know’t; I thank you. You do love my lord:
You have known him long; and be you well assured
He shall in strangeness stand no further off
Than in a polite distance.

    CASSIO
                                Ay, but, lady,
That policy may either last so long,
Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.

    DESDEMONA
Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I’ll perform it
To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
I’ll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I’ll intermingle every thing he does
With Cassio’s suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away.

    EMILIA
Madam, here comes my lord.

    CASSIO
Madam, I’ll take my leave.

    DESDEMONA
Why, stay, and hear me speak.

    CASSIO
Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.

    DESDEMONA
Well, do your discretion.

    IAGO
Ha! I like not that.

    OTHELLO
                        What dost thou say?

    IAGO
Nothing, my lord: or if—I know not what.

    OTHELLO
Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?

    IAGO
Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.

    OTHELLO
                I do believe ’twas he.

    DESDEMONA
How now, my lord!
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.

    OTHELLO
Who is’t you mean?

    DESDEMONA
Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgment in an honest face:
I prithee, call him back.

    OTHELLO
                Went he hence now?

    DESDEMONA
Ay, sooth; so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me,
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.

    OTHELLO
Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.

    DESDEMONA
But shall’t be shortly?

    OTHELLO
                The sooner, sweet, for you.

    DESDEMONA
Shall’t be to-night at supper?

    OTHELLO
                                No, not to-night.

    DESDEMONA
To-morrow dinner, then?

    OTHELLO
                I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.

    DESDEMONA
Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:
I prithee, name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days: in faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason—
Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best—is not almost a fault
To incur a private cheque. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,
Hath ta’en your part; to have so much to do
To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,—

    OTHELLO
Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.

    DESDEMONA
                Why, this is not a boon;
’Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight
And fearful to be granted.

    OTHELLO
                I will deny thee nothing:
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.

    DESDEMONA
Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.

    OTHELLO
Farewell, my Desdemona: I’ll come to thee straight.

    DESDEMONA
Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
Whate’er you be, I am obedient.

    OTHELLO
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.

    IAGO
My noble lord—

    OTHELLO
                What dost thou say, Iago?

    IAGO
Did Michael Cassio, when you woo’d my lady,
Know of your love?

    OTHELLO
He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?

    IAGO
But for a satisfaction of my thought;
No further harm.

    OTHELLO
                Why of thy thought, Iago?

    IAGO
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.

    OTHELLO
O, yes; and went between us very oft.

    IAGO
Indeed!

    OTHELLO
Indeed! ay, indeed: discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?

    IAGO
Honest, my lord!

    OTHELLO
                Honest! ay, honest.

    IAGO
My lord, for aught I know.

    OTHELLO
What dost thou think?

    IAGO
                        Think, my lord!

    OTHELLO
Think, my lord!
                By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst ‘Indeed!’
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

    IAGO
My lord, you know I love you.

    OTHELLO
                                I think thou dost;
And, for I know thou’rt full of love and honesty,
And weigh’st thy words before thou givest them breath,
Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:
For such things in a false disloyal knave
Are tricks of custom, but in a man that’s just
They are close delations, working from the heart
That passion cannot rule.

    IAGO
                        For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.

    OTHELLO
I think so too.

    IAGO
                Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!

    OTHELLO
Certain, men should be what they seem.

    IAGO
Why, then, I think Cassio’s an honest man.

    OTHELLO
Nay, yet there’s more in this:
I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.

    IAGO
                Good my lord, pardon me:
Though I am bound to every act of duty,
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
As where’s that palace whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,
But some uncleanly apprehensions
Keep leets and law-days and in session sit
With meditations lawful?

    OTHELLO
Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think’st him wrong’d and makest his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

    IAGO
                        I do beseech you—
Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague
To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not—that your wisdom yet,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,
Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

    OTHELLO
                        What dost thou mean?

    IAGO
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls:
Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing;
’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.

    OTHELLO
By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.

    IAGO
You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
Nor shall not, whilst ’tis in my custody.

    OTHELLO
Ha!

    IAGO
            O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

    OTHELLO
O misery!

    IAGO
Poor and content is rich and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

    OTHELLO
                Why, why is this?
Think’st thou I’ld make a lie of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt
Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
Matching thy inference. ’Tis not to make me jealous
To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;
I’ll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this,—
Away at once with love or jealousy!

    IAGO
I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason
To show the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to’t:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
Is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t unknown.

    OTHELLO
Dost thou say so?

    IAGO
She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And when she seem’d to shake and fear your looks,
She loved them most.

    OTHELLO
                And so she did.

    IAGO
                                Why, go to, then;
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seal her father’s eyes up close as oak—
He thought ’twas witchcraft—but I am much to blame;
I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
For too much loving you.

    OTHELLO
                I am bound to thee for ever.

    IAGO
I see this hath a little dash’d your spirits.

    OTHELLO
Not a jot, not a jot.

    IAGO
                    I’ faith, I fear it has.
I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you’re moved:
I am to pray you not to strain my speech
To grosser issues nor to larger reach
Than to suspicion.

    OTHELLO
I will not.

    IAGO
                Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success
As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio’s my worthy friend—
My lord, I see you’re moved.

    OTHELLO
                        No, not much moved:
I do not think but Desdemona’s honest.

    IAGO
Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

    OTHELLO
And yet, how nature erring from itself,—

    IAGO
Ay, there’s the point: as—to be bold with you—
Not to affect many proposed matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things nature tends—
Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,
Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me; I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms
And happily repent.

    OTHELLO
                Farewell, farewell:
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:

    IAGO    [Going]
My lord, I take my leave.

    OTHELLO
Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

    IAGO    [Returning]
My lord, I would I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
For sure, he fills it up with great ability,
Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity;
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears—
As worthy cause I have to fear I am—
And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.

    OTHELLO
Fear not my government.

    IAGO
I once more take my leave.

    OTHELLO
This fellow’s of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
I’ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,
To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have, or for I am declined
Into the vale of years,—yet that’s not much—
She’s gone. I am abused; and my relief
Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
That we can call these 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
For others’ uses. Yet, ’tis the plague of great ones;
Prerogatived are they less than the base;
’Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:
Even then this forked plague is fated to us
When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:

    DESDEMONA
                How now, my dear Othello!
Your dinner, and the generous islanders
By you invited, do attend your presence.

    OTHELLO
I am to blame.

    DESDEMONA
                Why do you speak so faintly?
Are you not well?

    OTHELLO
I have a pain upon my forehead here.

    DESDEMONA
’Faith, that’s with watching; ’twill away again:
Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
It will be well.

    OTHELLO
                Your napkin is too little:

Let it alone. Come, I’ll go in with you.

    DESDEMONA
I am very sorry that you are not well.

    EMILIA
I am glad I have found this napkin:
This was her first remembrance from the Moor:
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo’d me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
That she reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I’ll have the work ta’en out,
And give’t Iago: what he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I;
I nothing but to please his fantasy.

    IAGO
How now! what do you here alone?

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

    IAGO
A thing for me? it is a common thing—

    EMILIA
Ha!

    IAGO
To have a foolish wife.

    EMILIA
O, is that all? What will you give me now
For the same handkerchief?

    IAGO
                        What handkerchief?

    EMILIA
What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.

    IAGO
Hast stol’n it from her?

    EMILIA
No, ’faith; she let it drop by negligence.
And, to the advantage, I, being here, took’t up.
Look, here it is.

    IAGO
                A good wench; give it me.

    EMILIA
What will you do with ’t, that you have been so earnest
To have me filch it?

    IAGO    [Snatching it]
Why, what’s that to you?

    EMILIA
If it be not for some purpose of import,
Give’t me again: poor lady, she’ll run mad
When she shall lack it.

    IAGO
Be not acknown on ’t; I have use for it.
Go, leave me.

                        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 ’tis better to be much abused
Than but to know’t a little.

    IAGO
                                How now, my lord!

    OTHELLO
What sense had I of her stol’n hours of lust?
I saw’t not, thought it not, it harm’d not me:
I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
I found not Cassio’s kisses on her lips:
He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stol’n,
Let him not know’t, and he’s not robb’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 Jove’s dead clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone!

    IAGO
Is’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 man’s eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath!

    IAGO
                                Is’t come to this?

    OTHELLO
Make me to see’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 lord,—

    OTHELLO
If thou dost slander her and torture me,
Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
On horror’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 wi’ 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
I’ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.

    OTHELLO
Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest.

    IAGO
I should be wise, for honesty’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.
I’ll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
As Dian’s visage, is now begrimed and black
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
I’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 on—
Behold her topp’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? Where’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 have’t.

    OTHELLO
Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.

    IAGO
I do not like the office:
But, sith I am enter’d in this cause so far,
Prick’d to’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 ‘sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;’
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry ‘O sweet creature!’ and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh’d, and kiss’d; and then
Cried ‘Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!’

    OTHELLO
O monstrous! monstrous!

    IAGO
                Nay, this was but his dream.

    OTHELLO
But this denoted a foregone conclusion:
’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.

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

    OTHELLO
                    I’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 wife’s hand?

    OTHELLO
I gave her such a one; ’twas my first gift.

    IAGO
I know not that; but such a handkerchief—
I am sure it was your wife’s—did I to-day
See Cassio wipe his beard with.

    OTHELLO
                                If it be that—

    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 ’tis true. Look here, Iago;
All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
’Tis gone.
Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For ’tis of aspics’ tongues!

    IAGO
                    Yet be content.

    OTHELLO
O, blood, blood, blood!

    IAGO
Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.

    OTHELLO
Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love,
Till that a capable and wide revenge
Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,
[Kneels]    In the due reverence of a sacred vow
I here engage my words.

    IAGO
                    Do not rise yet.
[Kneels]    Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong’d Othello’s service! Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business ever.

    OTHELLO
                                I greet thy love,
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the instant put thee to’t:
Within these three days let me hear thee say
That Cassio’s not alive.

    IAGO
My friend is dead; ’tis done at your request:
But let her live.

    OTHELLO
        Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!
Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,
To furnish me with some swift means of death
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.

    IAGO
I am your own for ever.