I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
But I shall in a more continuate time
Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
Gives her Desdemona's
handkerchief.
Take me this work out.
BIANCA. O Cassio, whence came this?
This is some token from a newer friend.
To the felt absence now I feel a cause.
Is't come to this? Well, well.
CASSIO. Go to, woman!
Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
From whence you have them. You are jealous now
That this is from some mistress, some remembrance.
No, by my faith, Bianca.
BIANCA. Why, whose is it?
CASSIO. I know not, sweet. I found it in my chamber.
I like the work well. Ere it be demanded —
As like enough it will – I'ld have it copied.
Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
BIANCA. Leave you! wherefore?
CASSIO. I do attend here on the general;
And think it no addition, nor my wish,
To have him see me woman'd.
BIANCA. Why, I pray you?
CASSIO. Not that I love you not.
BIANCA. But that you do not love me.
I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
And say if I shall see you soon at night.
CASSIO. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
For I attend here, but I'll see you soon.
BIANCA. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.
Exeunt.
ACT IV. SCENE I. Cyprus. Before the castle
Enter Othello and Iago.
IAGO. Will you think so?
OTHELLO. Think so, Iago?
IAGO. What,
To kiss in private?
OTHELLO. An unauthorized kiss.
IAGO. Or to be naked with her friend in bed
An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
OTHELLO. Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!
It is hypocrisy against the devil.
They that mean virtuously and yet do so,
The devil their virtue tempts and they tempt heaven.
IAGO. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip.
But if I give my wife a handkerchief —
OTHELLO. What then?
IAGO. Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord, and being hers,
She may, I think, bestow't on any man.
OTHELLO. She is protectress of her honor too.
May she give that?
IAGO. Her honor is an essence that's not seen;
They have it very oft that have it not.
But for the handkerchief —
OTHELLO. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.
Thou said'st – O, it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all – he had my handkerchief.
IAGO. Ay, what of that?
OTHELLO. That's not so good now.
IAGO. What,
If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
Or heard him say – as knaves be such abroad,
Who having, by their own importunate suit,
Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
But they must blab —
OTHELLO. Hath he said anything?
IAGO. He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,
No more than he'll unswear.
OTHELLO. What hath he said?
IAGO. Faith, that he did – I know not what he did.
OTHELLO. What? what?
IAGO. Lie —
OTHELLO. With her?
IAGO. With her, on her, what you will.
OTHELLO. Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when they
belie her. Lie with her! 'Zounds, that's fulsome!
Handkerchief —
confessions – handkerchief! To confess and be hanged for his
labor —
first, to be hanged, and then to confess. I tremble at it.
Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion
without
some instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus. Pish!
Noses, ears, and lips. Is't possible? Confess? Handkerchief?
O
devil!
Falls in a
trance.
IAGO. Work on,
My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught,
And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! My lord!
My lord, I say! Othello!