ACT 3. SCENE III. The garden of the castle.

by William Shakespeare

　　Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia

　　Desdemona

　　Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will doAll my abilities in thy behalf.Emilia

　　Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband,As if the case were his.Desdemona

　　O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,But I will have my lord and you againAs friendly as you were.Cassio

　　Bounteous madam,Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,He's never any thing but your true servant.Desdemona

　　I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord:You have known him long; and be you well assuredHe shall in strangeness stand no further offThan in a polite distance.Cassio

　　Ay, but, lady,That policy may either last so long,Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,Or breed itself so out of circumstance,That, I being absent and my place supplied,My general will forget my love and service.Desdemona

　　Do not doubt that; before Emilia hereI give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee,If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform itTo the last article: my lord shall never rest;I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;I'll intermingle every thing he doesWith Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio;For thy solicitor shall rather dieThan give thy cause away.Emilia

　　Madam, here comes my lord.Cassio

　　Madam, I'll take my leave.Desdemona

　　Why, stay, and hear me speak.Cassio

　　Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,Unfit for mine own purposes.Desdemona

　　Well, do your discretion.Exit CASSIO Enter OTHELLO and IAGO

　　Iago

　　Ha! I like not that.Othello

　　What dost thou say?Iago

　　Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what.Othello

　　Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?Iago

　　Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,That he would steal away so guilty-like,Seeing you coming.Othello

　　I do believe 'twas he.Desdemona

　　How now, my lord!I have been talking with a suitor here,A man that languishes in your displeasure.Othello

　　Who is't you mean?Desdemona

　　Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,If I have any grace or power to move you,His present reconciliation take;For if he be not one that truly loves you,That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,I have no judgment in an honest face:I prithee, call him back.Othello

　　Went he hence now?Desdemona

　　Ay, sooth; so humbledThat he hath left part of his grief with me,To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.Othello

　　Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.Desdemona

　　But shall't be shortly?Othello

　　The sooner, sweet, for you.Desdemona

　　Shall't be to-night at supper?Othello

　　No, not to-night.Desdemona

　　To-morrow dinner, then?Othello

　　I shall not dine at home;I meet the captains at the citadel.Desdemona

　　Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn:I prithee, name the time, but let it notExceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;And yet his trespass, in our common reason--Save that, they say, the wars must make examplesOut of their best--is not almost a faultTo incur a private cheque. When shall he come?Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,What you would ask me, that I should deny,Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time,When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to doTo bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,--Othello

　　Prithee, no more: let him come when he will;I will deny thee nothing.Desdemona

　　Why, this is not a boon;'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,Or sue to you to do a peculiar profitTo your own person: nay, when I have a suitWherein I mean to touch your love indeed,It shall be full of poise and difficult weightAnd fearful to be granted.Othello

　　I will deny thee nothing:Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,To leave me but a little to myself.Desdemona

　　Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.Othello

　　Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight.Desdemona

　　Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;Whate'er you be, I am obedient.Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA

　　Othello

　　Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,Chaos is come again.Iago

　　My noble lord--Othello

　　What dost thou say, Iago?Iago

　　Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,Know of your love?Othello

　　He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?Iago

　　But for a satisfaction of my thought;No further harm.Othello

　　Why of thy thought, Iago?Iago

　　I did not think he had been acquainted with her.Othello

　　O, yes; and went between us very oft.Iago

　　Indeed!Othello

　　Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that?Is he not honest?Iago

　　Honest, my lord!Othello

　　Honest! ay, honest.Iago

　　My lord, for aught I know.Othello

　　What dost thou think?Iago

　　Think, my lord!Othello

　　Think, my lord!By heaven, he echoes me,As if there were some monster in his thoughtToo hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?And when I told thee he was of my counselIn my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!'And didst contract and purse thy brow together,As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brainSome horrible conceit: if thou dost love me,Show me thy thought.Iago

　　My lord, you know I love you.Othello

　　I think thou dost;And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more:For such things in a false disloyal knaveAre tricks of custom, but in a man that's justThey are close delations, working from the heartThat passion cannot rule.Iago

　　For Michael Cassio,I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.Othello

　　I think so too.Iago

　　Men should be what they seem;Or those that be not, would they might seem none!Othello

　　Certain, men should be what they seem.Iago

　　Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man.Othello

　　Nay, yet there's more in this:I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughtsThe worst of words.Iago

　　Good my lord, pardon me:Though I am bound to every act of duty,I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;As where's that palace whereinto foul thingsSometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,But some uncleanly apprehensionsKeep leets and law-days and in session sitWith meditations lawful?Othello

　　Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his earA stranger to thy thoughts.Iago

　　I do beseech you--Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,As, I confess, it is my nature's plagueTo spy into abuses, and oft my jealousyShapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,From one that so imperfectly conceits,Would take no notice, nor build yourself a troubleOut of his scattering and unsure observance.It were not for your quiet nor your good,Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,To let you know my thoughts.Othello

　　What dost thou mean?Iago

　　Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,Is the immediate jewel of their souls:Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands:But he that filches from me my good nameRobs me of that which not enriches himAnd makes me poor indeed.Othello

　　By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.Iago

　　You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.Othello

　　Ha!Iago

　　O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;It is the green-eyed monster which doth mockThe meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in blissWho, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'erWho dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!Othello

　　O misery!Iago

　　Poor and content is rich and rich enough,But riches fineless is as poor as winterTo him that ever fears he shall be poor.Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defendFrom jealousy!Othello

　　Why, why is this?Think'st thou I'ld make a life of jealousy,To follow still the changes of the moonWith fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubtIs once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat,When I shall turn the business of my soulTo such exsufflicate and blown surmises,Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealousTo say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well;Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:Nor from mine own weak merits will I drawThe smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago;I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;And on the proof, there is no more but this,--Away at once with love or jealousy!Iago

　　I am glad of it; for now I shall have reasonTo show the love and duty that I bear youWith franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound,Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure:I would not have your free and noble nature,Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't:I know our country disposition well;In Venice they do let heaven see the pranksThey dare not show their husbands; their best conscienceIs not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.Othello

　　Dost thou say so?Iago

　　She did deceive her father, marrying you;And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,She loved them most.Othello

　　And so she did.Iago

　　Why, go to then;She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,To seal her father's eyes up close as oak-He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;I humbly do beseech you of your pardonFor too much loving you.Othello

　　I am bound to thee for ever.Iago

　　I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.Othello

　　Not a jot, not a jot.Iago

　　I' faith, I fear it has.I hope you will consider what is spokeComes from my love. But I do see you're moved:I am to pray you not to strain my speechTo grosser issues nor to larger reachThan to suspicion.Othello

　　I will not.Iago

　　Should you do so, my lord,My speech should fall into such vile successAs my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--My lord, I see you're moved.Othello

　　No, not much moved:I do not think but Desdemona's honest.Iago

　　Long live she so! and long live you to think so!Othello

　　And yet, how nature erring from itself,--Iago

　　Ay, there's the point: as--to be bold with you--Not to affect many proposed matchesOf her own clime, complexion, and degree,Whereto we see in all things nature tends--Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,Foul disproportion thoughts unnatural.But pardon me; I do not in positionDistinctly speak of her; though I may fearHer will, recoiling to her better judgment,May fall to match you with her country formsAnd happily repent.Othello

　　Farewell, farewell:If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:Iago

　　Going My lord, I take my leave.Othello

　　Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtlessSees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.Iago

　　Returning My lord, I would I might entreatyour honourTo scan this thing no further; leave it to time:Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,For sure, he fills it up with great ability,Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,You shall by that perceive him and his means:Note, if your lady strain his entertainmentWith any strong or vehement importunity;Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,Let me be thought too busy in my fears--As worthy cause I have to fear I am--And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.Othello

　　Fear not my government.Iago

　　I once more take my leave.Exit

　　Othello

　　This fellow's of exceeding honesty,And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am blackAnd have not those soft parts of conversationThat chamberers have, or for I am declinedInto the vale of years,--yet that's not much--She's gone. I am abused; and my reliefMust be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,That we can call these delicate creatures ours,And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,Than keep a corner in the thing I loveFor others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;Prerogatived are they less than the base;'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death:Even then this forked plague is fated to usWhen we do quicken. Desdemona comes:Re-enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA

　　If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!I'll not believe't.Desdemona

　　How now, my dear Othello!Your dinner, and the generous islandersBy you invited, do attend your presence.Othello

　　I am to blame.Desdemona

　　Why do you speak so faintly?Are you not well?Othello

　　I have a pain upon my forehead here.Desdemona

　　'Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again:Let me but bind it hard, within this hourIt will be well.Othello

　　Your napkin is too little:He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops

　　Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.Desdemona

　　I am very sorry that you are not well.Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA

　　Emilia

　　I am glad I have found this napkin:This was her first remembrance from the Moor:My wayward husband hath a hundred timesWoo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,For he conjured her she should ever keep it,That she reserves it evermore about herTo kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,And give't Iago: what he will do with itHeaven knows, not I;I nothing but to please his fantasy.Re-enter Iago

　　Iago

　　How now! what do you here alone?Emilia

　　Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.Iago

　　A thing for me? it is a common thing--Emilia

　　Ha!Iago

　　To have a foolish wife.Emilia

　　O, is that all? What will you give me nowFor the same handkerchief?Iago

　　What handkerchief?Emilia

　　What handkerchief?Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;That which so often you did bid me steal.Iago

　　Hast stol'n it from her?Emilia

　　No, 'faith; she let it drop by negligence.And, to the advantage, I, being here, took't up.Look, here it is.Iago

　　A good wench; give it me.Emilia

　　What will you do with 't, that you have beenso earnestTo have me filch it?Iago

　　Snatching it Why, what's that to you?Emilia

　　If it be not for some purpose of import,Give't me again: poor lady, she'll run madWhen she shall lack it.Iago

　　Be not acknown on 't; I have use for it.Go, leave me.Exit EMILIA

　　I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,And let him find it. Trifles light as airAre to the jealous confirmations strongAs proofs of holy writ: this may do something.The Moor already changes with my poison:Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,But with a little act upon the blood.Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:Look, where he comes!Re-enter OTHELLO

　　Not poppy, nor mandragora,Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleepWhich thou owedst yesterday.b>Othello

　　Ha! ha! false to me?Iago

　　Why, how now, general! no more of that.Othello

　　Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:I swear 'tis better to be much abusedThan but to know't a little.Iago

　　How now, my lord!Othello

　　What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:I slept the next night well, was free and merry;I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips:He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.Iago

　　I am sorry to hear this.Othello

　　I had been happy, if the general camp,Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,So I had nothing known. O, now, for everFarewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,The royal banner, and all quality,Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throatsThe immortal Jove's dead clamours counterfeit,Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!Iago

　　Is't possible, my lord?Othello

　　Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:Or by the worth of man's eternal soul,Thou hadst been better have been born a dogThan answer my waked wrath!Iago

　　Is't come to this?Othello

　　Make me to see't; or, at the least, so prove it,That the probation bear no hinge nor loopTo hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!Iago

　　My noble lord,--Othello

　　If thou dost slander her and torture me,Never pray more; abandon all remorse;On horror's head horrors accumulate;Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;For nothing canst thou to damnation addGreater than that.Iago

　　O grace! O heaven forgive me!Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool.That livest to make thine honesty a vice!O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,To be direct and honest is not safe.I thank you for this profit; and from henceI'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.Othello

　　Nay, stay: thou shouldst be honest.Iago

　　I should be wise, for honesty's a foolAnd loses that it works for.Othello

　　By the world,I think my wife be honest and think she is not;I think that thou art just and think thou art not.I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as freshAs Dian's visage, is now begrimed and blackAs mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!Iago

　　I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:I do repent me that I put it to you.You would be satisfied?Othello

　　Would! nay, I will.Iago

　　And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on--Behold her topp'd?Othello

　　Death and damnation! O!Iago

　　It were a tedious difficulty, I think,To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,If ever mortal eyes do see them bolsterMore than their own! What then? how then?What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?It is impossible you should see this,Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as grossAs ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,If imputation and strong circumstances,Which lead directly to the door of truth,Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.Othello

　　Give me a living reason she's disloyal.Iago

　　I do not like the office:But, sith I am enter'd in this cause so far,Prick'd to't by foolish honesty and love,I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;And, being troubled with a raging tooth,I could not sleep.There are a kind of men so loose of soul,That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:One of this kind is Cassio:In sleep I heard him say 'Sweet Desdemona,Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;'And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,Cry 'O sweet creature!' and then kiss me hard,As if he pluck'd up kisses by the rootsThat grew upon my lips: then laid his legOver my thigh, and sigh'd, and kiss'd; and thenCried 'Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!'Othello

　　O monstrous! monstrous!Iago

　　Nay, this was but his dream.Othello

　　But this denoted a foregone conclusion:'Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.Iago

　　And this may help to thicken other proofsThat do demonstrate thinly.Othello

　　I'll tear her all to pieces.Iago

　　Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchiefSpotted with strawberries in your wife's hand?Othello

　　I gave her such a one; 'twas my first gift.Iago

　　I know not that; but such a handkerchief--I am sure it was your wife's--did I to-daySee Cassio wipe his beard with.Othello

　　If it be that--Iago

　　If it be that, or any that was hers,It speaks against her with the other proofs.Othello

　　O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago;All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.'Tis gone.Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throneTo tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,For 'tis of aspics' tongues!Iago

　　Yet be content.Othello

　　O, blood, blood, blood!Iago

　　Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.Othello

　　Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,Whose icy current and compulsive courseNe'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due onTo the Propontic and the Hellespont,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 revengeSwallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,Kneels

　　In the due reverence of a sacred vowI here engage my words.Iago

　　Do not rise yet.Kneels

　　Witness, you ever-burning lights above,You elements that clip us round about,Witness that here Iago doth give upThe execution of his wit, hands, heart,To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,And to obey shall be in me remorse,What bloody business ever.They rise

　　Othello

　　I greet thy love,Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,And will upon the instant put thee to't:Within these three days let me hear thee sayThat Cassio's not alive.Iago

　　My friend is dead; 'tis done at your request:But let her live.Othello

　　Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,To furnish me with some swift means of deathFor the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.Iago

　　I am your own for ever.Exeunt