And many a civil monster.
OTHELLO
Did he confess it?
IAGO
Good sir, be a man;
Think every bearded fellow that’s but yok’d
May draw with you: there’s millions now alive
That nightly lie in those unproper beds
Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.
O, ‘tis the spite of hell, the fiend’s arch-mock,
To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;
And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
OTHELLO
O, thou art wise; ‘tis certain.
IAGO
Stand you awhile apart;
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here o’erwhelmed with your grief,—
A passion most unsuiting such a man,—
Cassio came hither: I shifted him away,
And laid good ‘scuse upon your ecstasy;
Bade him anon return, and here speak with me;
The which he promis’d. Do but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew,—
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath, and is again to cope your wife:
I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;
Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.
OTHELLO
Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But,—dost thou hear?—most bloody.
IAGO
That’s not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
[Othello withdraws.]
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A housewife that, by selling her desires,
Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature
That dotes on Cassio,—as ‘tis the strumpet’s plague
To beguile many and be beguil’d by one:—
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter:—here he comes:—
As he shall smile Othello shall go mad;
And his unbookish jealousy must construe
Poor Cassio’s smiles, gestures, and light behavior
Quite in the wrong.
[Re-enter Cassio.]
How do you now, lieutenant?
CASSIO
The worser that you give me the addition
Whose want even kills me.
IAGO
Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on’t.
[Speaking lower.] Now, if this suit lay in Bianca’s power,
How quickly should you speed!
CASSIO
Alas, poor caitiff!
OTHELLO
[Aside.] Look, how he laughs already!
IAGO
I never knew a woman love man so.
CASSIO
Alas, poor rogue! I think, i’faith, she loves me.
OTHELLO
[Aside.] Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out.
IAGO
Do you hear, Cassio?
OTHELLO
Now he impórtunes him
To tell it o’er: go to; well said, well said.
IAGO
She gives it out that you shall marry her:
Do you intend it?
CASSIO
Ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO
Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph?
CASSIO
I marry her!—what? A customer! I pr’ythee, bear some charity to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome:—ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO
So, so, so, so: they laugh that win.
IAGO
Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
CASSIO
Pr’ythee, say true.
IAGO
I am a very villain else.
OTHELLO
Have you scored me? Well.
CASSIO
This is the monkey’s own giving out: she is persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promise.
OTHELLO
Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.
CASSIO
She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was the other day talking on the sea bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes the bauble, and falls thus about my neck,—
OTHELLO
Crying, “O dear Cassio!” as it were: his gesture imports it.
CASSIO
So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales and pulls me: ha, ha, ha!
OTHELLO
Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
CASSIO
Well, I must leave her company.
IAGO
Before me! look where she comes.
CASSIO
‘Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfumed one.
[Enter Bianca.]
What do you mean by this haunting of me?
BIANCA
Let the devil and his dam 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 not know who left it there! This is some minx’s token, and I must take out the work? There,—give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever you had it, I’ll take out no work on’t.
CASSIO
How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!
OTHELLO
By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
BIANCA
An you’ll come to supper tonight, you may; an you will not, come when you are next prepared for.