Part 19

Des. Why so I can: but I will not now: This is a tricke to put me from my suite, Pray you let Cassio be receiu'd againe

Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchiefe, My minde mis-giues

Des. Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more sufficient man

Oth. The Handkerchiefe

Des. A man that all his time Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue; Shar'd dangers with you

Oth. The Handkerchiefe

Des. Insooth, you are too blame

Oth. Away.

Exit Othello.

Aemil. Is not this man iealious? Des. I neu'r saw this before. Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchiefe, I am most vnhappy in the losse of it. Aemil. 'Tis not a yeare or two shewes vs a man: They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food, They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full They belch vs. Enter Iago, and Cassio.

Looke you, Cassio and my Husband

Iago. There is no other way: 'tis she must doo't: And loe the happinesse: go, and importune her

Des. How now (good Cassio) what's the newes with you? Cassio. Madam, my former suite. I do beseech you, That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe Exist, and be a member of his loue, Whom I, with all the Office of my heart Intirely honour, I would not be delayd. If my offence, be of such mortall kinde, That nor my Seruice past, nor present Sorrowes, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, Can ransome me into his loue againe, But to know so, must be my benefit: So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content, And shut my selfe vp in some other course To Fortunes Almes

Des. Alas (thrice-gentle Cassio) My Aduocation is not now in Tune; My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him, Were he in Fauour, as in Humour alter'd. So helpe me euery spirit sanctified, As I haue spoken for you all my best, And stood within the blanke of his displeasure For my free speech. You must awhile be patient: What I can do, I will: and more I will Then for my selfe, I dare. Let that suffice you

Iago. Is my Lord angry? Aemil. He went hence but now: And certainly in strange vnquietnesse

Iago. Can he be angry? I haue seen the Cannon When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre, And like the Diuell from his very Arme Puff't his owne Brother: And is he angry? Something of moment then: I will go meet him, There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Exit

Des. I prythee do so. Something sure of State, Either from Venice, or some vnhatch'd practise Made demonstrable heere in Cyprus, to him, Hath pudled his cleare Spirit: and in such cases, Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things, Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so. For let our finger ake, and it endues Our other healthfull members, euen to a sense Of paine. Nay, we must thinke men are not Gods, Nor of them looke for such obseruancie As fits the Bridall. Beshrew me much, aemilia, I was (vnhandsome Warrior, as I am) Arraigning his vnkindnesse with my soule: But now I finde, I had suborn'd the Witnesse, And he's Indited falsely. Aemil. Pray heauen it bee State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception, Nor no Iealious Toy, concerning you

Des. Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cause. Aemil. But Iealious soules will not be answer'd so; They are not euer iealious for the cause, But iealious, for they're iealious. It is a Monster Begot vpon it selfe, borne on it selfe

Des. Heauen keepe the Monster from Othello's mind. Aemil. Lady, Amen

Des. I will go seeke him. Cassio, walke heere about: If I doe finde him fit, Ile moue your suite, And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.

Exit

Cas. I humbly thanke your Ladyship. Enter Bianca.

Bian. 'Saue you (Friend Cassio.) Cassio. What make you from home? How is't with you, my most faire Bianca? Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Cassio. What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights? Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres More tedious then the Diall, eight score times? Oh weary reck'ning

Cassio. Pardon me, Bianca: I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest, But I shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca Take me this worke out

Bianca. Oh Cassio, whence came this? This is some Token from a newer Friend, To the felt-Absence: now I feele a Cause: Is't come to this? Well, well

Cassio. Go too, woman: Throw your vilde gesses in the Diuels teeth, From whence you haue them. You are iealious now, That this is from some Mistris, some remembrance; No, in good troth Bianca