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mad;

Jago. Ply Desdemonå well, and you are sure on't. Some Charity to my Wit, da altomer; prithee bear

.

Oih. Dost thou hear, Jago.
I will be found most cunning in my patience ;
But, dost thou hear, most bloody.

Jago. That's not amiss ;
But yer keep time in all. Will you withdraw. .

[Ochello withdrawi sa
Now will I question Caffio of Bianca,
A Huswife, that by felling ber defires,
Buys her self Bread and Cloth. It is a Creature
That dotes on Caffio, as 'tis the Strumpet's plague
To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one ;
He, when he hears of hor, cannot restrain
From the excess of Laughter. Here he comes.

Enter Callie.
As he shall smile, Othello thall go
And his unbookish Jealoufie mult construe,
Poor Cassio's Smiles, Gestures and light Behaviours
Quite in the wrong. How do you, Lieutenant?

Caf. The worser, that you gave me the Addition,
.: Whore want even kills me.
Now, if this Sute lay in Bianca's Dower,

[Speaking lower. How quickly should you speed ?

Caf. Alas, poor Caitiff.
Oih. Look how he laughs already.

I ago. I' never knew a Woman love Man so.
Caf. Alas, poor Rogue, I think indeed she loves me.
Oth. Now, he denies it faintlý, and laughs it out.
Jago. Do you hear, Callio?

Oth. Now he importunes him
To tell it o'er : Go to, well said, well faid.

Jago. She gives it out, that you Thall marry her.
Do you intend it?

Caf. Ha, ha, ha.
Oih. Do ye trivmph, Roman ? do you triumph :
. 'marry ...What? a Customer;

do not think it So unwhollome. Ha, ha, ha..

Orb. So, so: They laugh chat win.

Jago. Why, the cry goes, that you shall marry her. Vol. v.

Cas:

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Caf. Prithee fay true.
Jago. I am a very Villain else.
Oib. Have you scoar'd me ? well.

Caf. This is the Monkey's own giving out:
She is per iwaded I will marry her,
Out of her owo Love and Flattery, not out of my promise.

Oth. Jago beckons me : Now he begins the Story.

Caf. She was here even now; the haunts me in every place. I was the other Day talking on the Sea Bank with certain to netians, and thicber comes the Bauble, and falls me thus & bout my Neck

Oth. Crying, oh dear Caffio, as it were : His gesture im

ports it.

Caf. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me, So shakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha

Oth. Now he tells how she plucke him to my Chamber : Oh, I see that Nose of yours, but not that Dog 1 fhall throw it to.

Cas. Well, I must leave her Company.
Jago. Before me ; look where she comes.

Enter Bianca.
Caf. 'Tis such another Fitchew ! marry, a perfum'd one :
What do you mean by this haunting of we?

Bian. Let the Devil and his Damo haunt you ; what did you mean by that same Handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine Fool to take it : I must take out the work? A likely piece of work, that you should find it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there. This is fome Minxe's token, and I muft take out the work ? There, give it your Hobbey-Horse : Wheresoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't.

Caf. How now, my, sweet Bianca ?, How now? How now?

Oth. By Heav'n, that should be my Handkerchief.

Bian. If you'll come to Supper to Night, you may ; il you will not, come when you are next prepared for. [Exit

. Fago. After her, after her. Caf. I must, she'll rail in the Streets elle. Jago. Will you Sup there? Ens. Yes, I intend so.

Fago. Well

, I may chance to sec you; for I would very fain speak with you.

Caj. Prithee come, will you?
Fago. Go to, say no more,

[Exit Cas.
Oth. How shall 1 murther him, Fago?
Pau Jago. Did you perceive how he laugh'd at his Vice ?
ET

Oth. Ob, Fago!
Fago. And did you see the Handkerchief?
Oth. Was that mine?

Jago. Yours, by this Hand : And to see how he prizes the foolish Woman your Wife-She gave it him, and he he hath given it his Whore.

Oth, I would have him nine Years a killing : A fine Woman ! a fair Woman ! a sweet Woman!

Jago. Nay, you must forget that. 0 Oth. Ay, let her rot and perish, and be damn'd to Night;

for she shall not live. No, my Heart is curn’d to Stone : I strike it, and it hurts my Hand, Oh, the World hath not a sweeter Creature. She might lye by an Emperor's Gde, and command him Tasks.

Jago. Nay, that's not your way,

Otk. Hang her, I do but fay what she is .fo de licate with her NeedleAn admirable Musician. Oh, she will fing the Savageness out of a Bear : Of fo high a plenteous Wit, and Invention !

Fago. She's the worse for all this.

Otb. Oh, a thousand, a thousand times: And then of so gentle a Condition !

Fago. Ay, too gentle.

Oih. Nay that's certailt. But

yet the pity of it, Jago---Oh, Jago, the pity of it, I agoona

Jago. If you are fo fond over her Iniquity : Give her Patend to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes near no Body.

Oth. I will chop her inco Melles : Cuckold me !
Fago. Oh, 'eis foul in her.
Oth. With mine Officer !
Fago. Thai's fouler.

Oih. Gee me some Poison, Fago, this Night. I'll not expoftulate with her, left her Body and her Beauty un provide my Mind again : This Night, Jago.

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Fago.

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Jago. Do it not with Poison, Itrangle her in her. Bed,
Even the Bed the hath contaminated.

Oih. Good, good :
The Juftice of ir pieefes; very good.

Fago. And for Callir, let me be his undertaker:
You thall bear more by midnight. ;

Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.
Oth. Excellent good---What Trumpet is that fame?

Fago. I warrant something from Venice,
'Tis Lodovico, this comes from the Duke.
See, your Wife's with him.
Lod. Sive you, worthy General.
Oth. With all my Heart, Sir.
Lod. The Duke, and the Senators of Venice greet you.

[Gives him a Letter,
Oth. I kiss che Instrument of their Pleasures.
Def. And what's the News, good Cousin Lodovico?

Jago. I am very glad to see you, Signior.
Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you ; how does Lieutenant Caffio?:
Jago. Livis, Sir.

Def. Cousin, there's faln between him ard my Lord
An unkind Breach : But you shall make all well.

Oth. Are you sure of that?
Def. My Lord.
Oth. This fail you not to do, as you will

Lod. He did not call; he's bufie in the Paper.
Is thre division 'cwixt my Lord and Caffio?

Def. A most unhappy one ; I would do much
T'atone them, for the Love I bear to Caffo.

Oth. Fire and Brimstone!
Des. My Lord.
Oth. Are you wise?
Des. What, is he angry?

Lod. May be the Letter mov'd him.
For as I think they do command him home,
Deputing Caffio in his Government.

Des. Trust me, I am glad on't.
Oth. Indeed!
Def. My Lord!
Osh. I am glad to see you mad.

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Def. Why, sweet Othello ?.
Oth. Devil!
Des. I have not deserv'd this.

Lod. My Lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice,
Though I mould swear I saw't. 'Tis very much,
Make her amends, she weeps.

Oth, Oh Devil, Devil!
If that the Earth could term with Woman's Tears,
Each Drop the falls would prove a Crocodile:
Out of my Sight
Des. I will not stay to offend you,

(Going. Lod. Truly obedient Lady : I do beseech your Lordship call her back,

Oth. Mistress.
Def. My Lord.
Oih. What would you with her, Sir ?
Lod. Who I, my Lord ?

Oth. I ! you did wish that I would make her turn :
Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on,
And turo again. And she can weep, Sir, weep.
And she's Obedient : As you lay Obedient.
Very Obedient-proceed you in your Tears--
Concerning this, Sir.o.oh 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, avant !

[Exit Def. Cassio shall have my place. And, Sir, to night I do entreat, that we may Sup together. You are welcome, Sir, co Cyprus Goats and Monkies!

[Exit. Lod. Is this the Noble Moor, whom our full Senate Call all in all sufficient? Is this the Nature Whom Pallion could not shake? Whose folid Virtue The Shot of Accident, nor Dart of Chance Could neither graze, nor pierce ?

Jago. He is much charig'd. Lod. Are his Wits safe? Is he not of light Brain ? Jago. He's that he is ; I may not breath my Cenfure, What he might be, if what he might, he is not, I would to Heav'n he were. Lodi Whit, strike his Wife !

Fago.

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