READ STUDY GUIDE: Act III, scene iv |
|
Act III, Scene iv:
Cyprus. Before the Castle.
Cyprus. Before the Castle.
| [Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.] |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies? |
| CLOWN: |
| I dare not say he lies anywhere. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Why, man? |
| CLOWN: |
| He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies is |
| stabbing. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Go to: where lodges he? |
| CLOWN: |
| To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Can anything be made of this? |
| CLOWN: |
| I know not where he lodges; and for me to devise a |
| lodging, and say he lies here or he lies there were to lie in |
| mine own throat. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report? |
| CLOWN: |
| I will catechize the world for him; that is, make |
| questions and by them answer. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have moved |
| my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well. |
| CLOWN: |
| To do this is within the compass of man's wit; and |
| therefore I will attempt the doing it. |
| [Exit.] |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? |
| EMILIA: |
| I know not, madam. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse |
| Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor |
| Is true of mind and made of no such baseness |
| As jealous creatures are, it were enough |
| To put him to ill thinking. |
| EMILIA: |
| Is he not jealous? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Who, he? I think the sun where he was born |
| Drew all such humours from him. |
| EMILIA: |
| Look, where he comes. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I will not leave him now till Cassio |
| Be call'd to him. |
| [Enter Othello.] |
| How is't with you, my lord? |
| OTHELLO: |
| Well, my good lady.—[Aside.]O, hardness to dissemble!— |
| How do you, Desdemona? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Well, my good lord. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow. |
| OTHELLO: |
| This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:— |
| Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires |
| A sequester from liberty, fasting, and prayer, |
| Much castigation, exercise devout; |
| For here's a young and sweating devil here |
| That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand, |
| A frank one. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| You may, indeed, say so; |
| For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. |
| OTHELLO: |
| A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands; |
| But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise. |
| OTHELLO: |
| What promise, chuck? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. |
| OTHELLO: |
| I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me; |
| Lend me thy handkerchief. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Here, my lord. |
| OTHELLO: |
| That which I gave you. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I have it not about me. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Not? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| No, faith, my lord. |
| OTHELLO: |
| That is a fault. |
| That handkerchief |
| Did an Egyptian to my mother give; |
| 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 |
| Entirely to her love; but if she lost it |
| Or made a gift of it, my father's eye |
| Should hold her loathed, and his spirits should hunt |
| After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me; |
| And bid me, when my fate would have me wive, |
| To give it her. I did so: and take heed on't; |
| Make it a darling like your precious eye; |
| To lose't or give't away were such perdition |
| As nothing else could match. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Is't possible? |
| OTHELLO: |
| 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: |
| A sibyl, that had number'd in the world |
| The sun to course 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 skillful |
| Conserv'd of maiden's hearts. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Indeed! is't true? |
| OTHELLO: |
| Most veritable; therefore look to't well. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Then would to God that I had never seen't! |
| OTHELLO: |
| Ha! wherefore? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Why do you speak so startingly and rash? |
| OTHELLO: |
| Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out of the way? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Heaven bless us! |
| OTHELLO: |
| Say you? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| It is not lost; but what an if it were? |
| OTHELLO: |
| How! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I say, it is not lost. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Fetch't, let me see't. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now. |
| This is a trick to put me from my suit: |
| Pray you, let Cassio be receiv'd again. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Come, come; |
| You'll never meet a more sufficient man. |
| OTHELLO: |
| The handkerchief! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I pray, talk me of Cassio. |
| OTHELLO: |
| The handkerchief! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| A man that all his time |
| Hath founded his good fortunes on your love, |
| Shar'd dangers with you,— |
| OTHELLO: |
| The handkerchief! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| In sooth, you are to blame. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Away! |
| [Exit.] |
| EMILIA: |
| Is not this man jealous? |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I ne'er saw this before. |
| Sure there's some wonder in this handkerchief; |
| I am most unhappy in the loss of it. |
| EMILIA: |
| 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man: |
| They are all but stomachs and we all but food: |
| They eat us hungerly, and when they are full, |
| They belch us.—Look you,—Cassio and my husband. |
| [Enter Cassio and Iago.] |
| IAGO: |
| There is no other way; 'tis she must do't: |
| And, lo, the happiness! go and importune her. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| How now, good Cassio! what's the news with you? |
| CASSIO: |
| Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you |
| That by your virtuous means I may again |
| Exist, and be a member of his love, |
| Whom I, with all the office of my heart, |
| Entirely honour: I would not be delay'd. |
| If my offence be of such mortal kind |
| That nor my service past, nor present sorrows, |
| Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, |
| Can ransom me into his love again, |
| But to know so must be my benefit; |
| So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content, |
| And shut myself up in some other course, |
| To fortune's alms. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio! |
| My advocation is not now in tune; |
| My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him |
| Were he in favour as in humour alter'd. |
| So help me every spirit sanctified, |
| As I have spoken for you all my best, |
| And stood within the blank of his displeasure |
| For my free speech! You must awhile be patient: |
| What I can do I will; and more I will |
| Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you. |
| IAGO: |
| Is my lord angry? |
| EMILIA: |
| He went hence but now, |
| And certainly in strange unquietness. |
| IAGO: |
| Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon, |
| When it hath blown his ranks into the air |
| And, like the devil, from his very arm |
| Puff'd his own brother;—and can he be angry? |
| Something of moment, then: I will go meet him: |
| There's matter in't indeed if he be angry. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I pr'ythee, do so. |
| [Exit Iago.] |
| Something sure of state,— |
| Either from Venice or some unhatch'd practice |
| Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,— |
| Hath puddled his clear spirit, and in such cases |
| Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, |
| Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so; |
| For let our finger ache, and it indues |
| Our other healthful members even to that sense |
| Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods, |
| Nor of them look for such observancy |
| As fits the bridal.—Beshrew me much, Emilia, |
| I was,—unhandsome warrior as I am,— |
| Arraigning his unkindness with my soul; |
| But now I find I had suborn'd the witness, |
| And he's indicted falsely. |
| EMILIA: |
| Pray heaven it be state matters, as you think, |
| And no conception nor no jealous toy |
| Concerning you. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Alas the day, I never gave him cause! |
| EMILIA: |
| But jealous souls will not be answer'd so; |
| They are not ever jealous for the cause, |
| But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster |
| Begot upon itself, born on itself. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind! |
| EMILIA: |
| Lady, amen. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| 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. |
| CASSIO: |
| I humbly thank your ladyship. |
| [Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.] |
| [Enter Bianca.] |
| BIANCA: |
| Save you, friend Cassio! |
| CASSIO: |
| What make you from home? |
| How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? |
| I'faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house. |
| BIANCA: |
| And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. |
| What, keep a week away? seven days and nights? |
| Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, |
| More tedious than the dial eight score times? |
| O weary reckoning! |
| CASSIO: |
| Pardon me, Bianca: |
| I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; |
| But I shall in a more continuate time |
| Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, |
| [Giving her Desdemona's handkerchief.] |
| Take me this work out. |
| BIANCA: |
| O Cassio, whence came this? |
| This is some token from a newer friend. |
| To the felt absence now I feel a cause: |
| Is't come to this? Well, well. |
| CASSIO: |
| Go to, woman! |
| Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, |
| From whence you have them. You are jealous now |
| That this is from some mistress, some remembrance: |
| No, in good troth, Bianca. |
| BIANCA: |
| Why, whose is it? |
| CASSIO: |
| I know not neither: I found it in my chamber. |
| I like the work well: ere it be demanded,— |
| As like enough it will,—I'd have it copied: |
| Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time. |
| BIANCA: |
| Leave you! wherefore? |
| CASSIO: |
| I do attend here on the general; |
| And think it no addition, nor my wish, |
| To have him see me woman'd. |
| BIANCA: |
| Why, I pray you? |
| CASSIO: |
| Not that I love you not. |
| BIANCA: |
| But that you do not love me. |
| I pray you, bring me on the way a little; |
| And say if I shall see you soon at night. |
| CASSIO: |
| 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you, |
| For I attend here: but I'll see you soon. |
| BIANCA: |
| 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanc'd. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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