She was a charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people: she told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable, and subdue my father Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should hunt To lose or give't away, were such perdition, 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 dy'd in mummy, which the skilful Conserved of maidens' hearts. Des. Indeed! is it true? Oth. Most veritable: therefore look to't well. Des. Then 'would to Heaven, that I had never seen it! Oth. Ha! wherefore? Des. Why do you speak so startingly and rash? Oth. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o' the way? Des. Heaven bless us! Oth. Say you? Des. It is not lost: But what, an' if it were? Des. I say it is not lost. Oth. Fetch't, let me see it. Des. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now :This is a trick to put me from my suit: I pray let Cassio be received again. F Oth. Fetch me that handkerchief:-my mind mis You'll never meet a more sufficient man. Oth. The handkerchief!. Des. A man that, all his time, Hath founded his good fortunes on your love; Oth. The handkerchief !— Des. In sooth, you are to blame. Oth. Away! Emil. Is not this man jealous? Des. I ne'er saw this before. [Exit. Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief: I am most unhappy in the loss of it. Emil. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man.--Look you! Cassio, and my husband. Enter IAGO and Cassio. Tago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't :-And, lo, the happiness!-go, and importune her. Des. How now, good Cassio? what's the news with you? Cas. Madam, my former suit. Des. Alas! thrice-gentle Cassio, My advocation is not now in tune; My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him, You must a while be patient: What I can do, I will; and more I will, Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you. Emil. He went hence but now, And, certainly, in strange unquietness. Iago. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannen, When it hath blown his ranks into the air, And, like the devil, from his very arm Nay, we must think, men are not gods; Emil. 'Pray Heaven, it be state matters, as you think; And no conception, nor no jealous toy, Concerning you! Des. Alas the day! I never gave him cause. Emil. But jealous souls will not be answered so: They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they're jealous: 'tis a monster Des. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind! Emil. Lady, amen! Des. I will go seek him.-Cassio, walk hereabout: If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit, And seek to effect it to my uttermost. Cas. I humbly thank your ladyship. [Exeunt. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. Cyprus. An Apartment in the Castle. Enter OTHELLO and IAGO. Oth. Get me some poison, Iago; this night :-I'll not expostulate with her; lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again :-this night, Iago. Iago. Do it not with poison; strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated. Oth. Good, good: the justice of it pleases; very good. Iago. And for Cassio,-let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight.Oth. Excellent good. What trumpet is that same ? [A Trumpet without. Iago. Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico Come from the Duke: and see, your wife is with him. Enter LODOVICO and DESDEmona. Lod. 'Save you, worthy general! Oth. With all my heart, sir. Lod. The Duke and senators of Venice greet you. [Gives him a Letter. Oth. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. [Reads the Letter. Des. And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico ? lago. I am very glad to see you, signior : Welcome to Cyprus. Lod. I thank you. How does lieutenant Cassio ? Iago. Lives, sir. Des. Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord An unkind breach: but you shall make all well. Des. My lord? Oth. [Reads.] This fail you not to do, as you will-Lod. He did not call; he's busy in the paper.— Is there division between my lord and Cassio? Des. A most unhappy one: I would do much To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio. Oth. Fire and brimstone !-— Des. My lord? Oth. Are you wise? Des. What, is he angry? Lod. 'May be, the letter moved him ; Des. By my troth, I am glad on't. Oth. Indeed? Des. My lord? Oth. I am glad to see you mad. Des. How, sweet Othello? Oth. Devil! Des. I have not deserved this. [Striking her. Lod. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice, Though I should swear I saw't: 'Tis very much; Make her amends; she weeps. Oth. O devil, devil !— If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, |