Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/846

330 Oth. Iago becomes me: now he begins the story.

Cassio. She was heere euen now: she haunts me in e uery place. I was the other day talking on the Sea banke with certaine Venetians, and thither comes the Bauble, and falls me thus about my neck.

Oth. Crying oh deere Cassio, as it were: his iesture imports it.

Cassio. So hangs, and lolls, and weepes vpon me: So shakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha.

Oth. Now he tells how she pluckt him to my Chamber: oh, I see that nose of yours, but not that dogge, I shall throw it to.

Cassio. Well, I must leaue her companie.

Iago. Before me: looke where she comes.

Cas. 'Tis such another Fitchew: marry a perfum'd one? What do you meane by this haunting of me?

Bian. Let the diuell, and his dam haunt you: what did you meane by that same Handkerchiefe, you gaue me euen now? I was a fine Foole to take it: I must take out the worke? A likely piece of worke, that you should finde it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there. This is some Minxes token, & I must take out the worke? There, giue it your Hobbey-horse, wheresoeuer you had it, Ile take out no worke on't.

Cassio. How now, my sweete Bianca? How now? How now?

Othe. By Heauen, that should be my Handkerchiefe.

Bian. If you'le come to supper to night you may, if you will not, come when you are next prepar'd for.

Iago. After her: after her.

Cas. I must, shee'l rayle in the streets else.

Iago. Will you sup there?

Cassio. Yes, I intend so.

Iago. Well, I may chance to see you: for I would very faine speake with you.

Cas. Prythee come: will you?

Iago. Go too; say no more.

Oth. How shall I murther him, Iago.

Iago. Did you perceiue how he laugh'd at his vice?

Oth. Oh, Iago.

Iago. And did you see the Handkerchiefe?

Oth. Was that mine?

Iago. Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman your wife: she gaue it him, and he hath giu'n it his whore.

Oth. I would haue him nine yeeres a killing: A fine woman, a faire woman, a sweete woman?

Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

Othello. I, let her rot and perish, and be damn'd to night, for she shall not liue. No, my heart is turn'd to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. Oh, the world hath not a sweeter Creature: she might lye by an Emperours side, and command him Taskes.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Othe. Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate with her Needle: an admirable Musitian. Oh she will sing the Sauagenesse out of a Beare: of so high and plenteous wit, and inuention?

Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Othe. Oh, a thousand, a thousand times: And then of so gentle a condition?

Iago. I too gentle.

Othe. Nay that's certaine: But yet the pitty of it, Iago: oh Iago, the pitty of it Iago.

Iago. If you are so fond ouer her iniquitie: giue her pattent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes neere no body.

Oth. I will chop her into Messes: Cuckold me?

Iago. Oh, 'tis foule in her.

Oth. With mine Officer?

Iago. That's fouler.

Othe. Get me some poyson, Iago, this night. Ile not expostulate with her: least her body and beautie vnprouide my mind againe: this night Iago.

Iago. Do it not with poyson, strangle her in her bed, Euen the bed she hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good: The Iustice of it pleases: very good.

Iago. And for Cassio, let me be his vndertaker: You shall heare more by midnight.

Othe. Excellent good: What Trumpet is that same?

Iago. I warrant something from Venice, 'Tis Lodouico, this, comes from the Duke. See, your wife's with him.

Lodo. Saue you worthy Generall.

Othe. With all my heart Sir.

Lod. The Duke, and the Senators of Venice greet you.

Othe. I kisse the Instrument of their pleasures.

Des. And what's the newes, good cozen Lodouico?

Iago. I am very glad to see you Signior: Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thanke you: how do's Lieutenant Cassio?

Iago. Liues Sir,

Des. Cozen, there's falne betweene him, & my Lord, An vnkind breach: but you shall make all well.

Othe. Are you sure of that?

Des. My Lord?

Othe. This faile you not to do, as you will

Lod. He did not call: he's busie in the paper, Is there deuision 'twixt my Lord, and Cassio?

Des. A most vnhappy one: I would do much T'attone them, for the loue I beare to Cassio.

Oth. Fire, and brimestone.

Des. My Lord.

Oth. Are you wise?

Des. What is he angrie?

Lod. May be th Letter mou'd him. For as I thinke, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his Gouernment.

Des. Trust me, I am glad on't.

Othe. Indeed?

Des. My Lord?

Othe. I am glad to see you mad.

Des. Why, sweete Othello?

Othe. Diuell.

Des. I haue not deseru'd this.

Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice, Though I should sweare I saw't. 'Tis very much, Make her amends: she weepes.

Othe. Oh diuell, diuell: If that the Earth could teeme with womans teares, Each drop she falls, would proue a Crocodile: Out of my sight.

Des. I will not stay to offend you.

Lod. Truely obedient Lady: I do beseech your Lordship call her backe.