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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 yon marble heaven,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow [He kneels.
I here engage my words---
Iago. Do not rise yet:

[Iago 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 wronged Othello's service. Let him command,
Nor to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business ever.

Oth. I greet thy love, Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounAnd will upon the instant put thee to't: (teous, 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. Oth. Damn her, lewd minx ! Oh, damn her!

damn her! Come, go with me a part; 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. [Exeunt.

eans

SCENĚ-another Apartment in the Palace.

Enter DESDEMONA, ÆMILIA, and Clown.

Des. Do you know, sirrah, where lieutenant Cassio lies?

Clown. I dare not say he lies any where.
Des. Why, man?

Clown. He's a soldier, and for me to say a soldier lies, 'tis stabbing.

Des. Go to, where lodges he?

Clown. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.

Des. Can any thing be made of this ?

Clown. I know not where he lodges; and for me to devise a lodging, and say lie lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.

Des. Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?

Clown. I will catechize the world for him ; that is, make questions, and bid them answer.

Des. Seek him, bid him come hither : tell him I have moved my Lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.

Clown. To do this is within the compass of man's wit, and therefore I will attempt the dying of it.

[Exit Clown. Des, Where should I lose that handkerchief, Æmilia ?

IELLO

Æmil. I know not, Madam.

Des. Believe me, I had rather have lost iny purse Full of cruzadoes. 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.

Æmil. Is he not jealous ?

Des. Who, he? I think the sun where he was Drew all such humours from him. [born,

Æmil. Look, where he comes.

Des. I will not leave him now, till Cassio be Called to him. How is it with you, my Lord ?

Enter Othello. Oth. Well, my good lady.--Oh, hardness to How do you, Desdemona?

[dissemble ! Des. Well, my Lord. Oth. Give me your hand ; this hand is moist,

my Lady. Des. It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.

Oth. This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:
Hot, hot, and moist-this hand of yours requires
A sequester from liberty; fasting and prayer,
Much castigation, exercise devout;
For here's a young and sweating devil here,
That commonly rebels ; ’tis a good hand,
A frank

Des. You may indeed say so;
For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart,

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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
Oth. What promise, chuck ? [promise.
Des. I've sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.

Oth. I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief.

Des. Here, my Lord. .
Oth. That which I gave you.
Des. I have it not about me.
Oth, Not?

Des. No, indeed, my Lord.
· Oth. That's a fault. That handkerchief
Did an Ægyptian to my mother give;
She was a charmer, and could almost read
The thoughts of people. She told her, while she

kept it, 'Twould make her amiable, subdue my father Entirely to her love ; but if she lost it, Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed, and his spirits hunt After new fancies. She dying, gave it me; . And bid me, when my fate would have me wived, To give it her. I did so; and take heed on't; Make it a darling, like your precious eye ; To lose't, or give't away, were such perdition, As nothing else could match.

Des. Is't possible ?

Oth. 'Tis true; there's magic in the web of it;
A Sybil, that had numbered in the world
The sun to course two hundred compasses,
In her prophetic fury sewed the work :
The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk;
And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful
Conserved of maiden's hearts.

Des. Indeed! is't true?
Oth. Most veritable, therefore look to't well.
Des. Then would to Heaven that I had never
Oth. Ha! wherefore?

[seen't ! Des. Why do you speak so startingly and rash ? Oth. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o'th' Des. Bless us !

[way? Oth. Say you? Des. It is not lost; but what an if it were ? Oth. Ha! Des. I say it is not lost. Oth. Fetch't, let me see't.

Des. Why, so I can, sir; but I will not now : This is a trick to put me from my suit: Pray you, let Cassio be received again. Oth. Fetch me the handkerchief--my mind misgives

[тап. Des. Come, you'll ne'er meet a more sufficient Oth. The handkerchief Des, A man that all his time,

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