OTHELLO'S STORY OF THe handkerCHIEF. Oth. That handkerchief

Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
She was a charmer,* and could almost read
The thoughts of people: she told her, while sh
kept it,

'Twould make her amiable, and subdue my fathe
Entirely to her love; but if she lost it,
Or made a gift of it, my father's eye

Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should bun
After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me;
And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
To give it her. I did so: and take heed of 't,
Make it a darling like your precious eye;

To lose or give 'taway, were such perdition,
As nothing else could match.

4

Des.

Is it possible?

Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: A sibyl that had number'd in the world

The sun to make two hundred compasses,
In her prophetic fury sew'd the work.

The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk;
And it was died in mummy, which the skilful
Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.

A LOVER'S COMPUTATION OF TIME.

What I keep a week away? seven days and nigh Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours More tedious than the dial eight score times? O weary reckoning!

ACT IV.

Oth.

OTHELLO'S DISTRACTION.

What hath he said?

lago. 'Faith, that he did,-I know not what he d Oth. What? what?

Iago.

With her, on her; what you will Oth. Lie with her! lie on her!-We say, lie

* Enchantress.

།

her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's fulsome.-Handkerchief,-confessions,--handkerchief. To confess, and be hanged for his labour.*-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 shake me thus:-Pish!-Noses, ears, and lips; -Is it possible?- -Confess!-Handkerchief!—Ó [Falls in a trance.

devil!

HIS FONDNESS.

A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!
Tago. Nay, you must forget that.

Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks. Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her; I do but say what she is: So delicate with her needle!-An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!-Of so high and plenteous wit and invention!

Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Oth. O, a thousand, a thousand times:-And then, of so gentle a condition!t

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oth. Nay, that's certain: But yet the pity of it, Iago!-0, lago, the pity of it, Iago.

HIS CONFIRMED JEALOUSY.

Oth. Mistress,

Des. My lord?

Oth.

What would you with her, sir?

Lod. Who, I, my lord?

Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her

turn;

Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,

And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say,-obedient,-
Very obedient;-Proceed you in your tears.-
* A proverbial saying.

Of so sweet a disposition.

24*

Concerning this, sir,-O, well-painted passion;
I am commanded home:-Get you away;
I'll send for you anon.—Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice;-Hence, avaunt!
[Exit DESDEMONA.
Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night,
I do entreat that we may sup together.

You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.-Goats, and monkies!

[Exit, Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im

HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA.

port?

I understand a fury in your words,

But not the words.

Oth. Why, what art thou?

Des.

Your wife, my lord; your true

Come, swear it, damn thyself;

Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be doubledamn'd,

Swear--thou art honest.

Des.

Heaven doth truly know it.

Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell.

Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am, I false?

Oth. O Desdemona! away! away! away!

Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect, An instrument of this your calling back, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction: had he rain'd All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head; Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips; Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes; I should have found in some part of my soul A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me

A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,-
O! O!

Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner'd* up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads

To knot and gender in!-turn thy complexion there
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim;
Ay, there, look grim as hell!

Des. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee.-'Would thou hadst
ne'er been born!

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed! Committed!-0 thou public commoner!

I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.--What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it: What committed.!-
Impudent strumpet!
Des.

No, as I am a christian:

By heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. Are not you a strumpet? Des. If to preserve this vessel for my lord, From any other foul unlawful touch, Be-not to be a strumpet, I am none. Oth. What, not a whore? Des.

Oth. Is it possible?

Des. O, heaven forgive us!

No, as I shall be saved

* Treasured up.

Oth,

I cry you mercy, then;

I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello.

DESDEMONA'S FIDELITY.

O, good Iago,

What shall I do to win my lord again?

Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:-
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will-Though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement,-love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love.

ACT V.

OTHELLO'S IRRESOLUTION TO MURDER DESDEMONA SCENE.—A Bedchamber; DESDEMONA in bed asleep. A light burning.

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars' It is the cause.-Yet I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of her's than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.

[Takes off his sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light:" If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me:-but once put out thine, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat, That can thy light relume.

thy rose,

When I have pluck'd

I cannot give it vital growth again,

* i. e. The light of life.