Othello

heart,
    Â Â Â Â To wrong’d Othello’s service: let him command,
    Â Â Â Â And to obey shall be in me remorse, [475]
    Â Â Â Â What bloody work so ever.
    (They rise.)
    OTHELLO. I greet thy love;
    Â Â Â Â Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
    Â Â Â Â And will upon the instant put thee to ’t,
    Â Â Â Â Within these three days, let me hear thee say
    Â Â Â Â That Cassio’s not alive.
    IAGO. My friend is dead: [480]
    Â Â Â Â â€™Tis done as you request, but let her live.
    OTHELLO. Damn her, lewd minx : O, damn her!
    Â Â Â Â Come, go with me apart, I will withdraw
    Â Â Â Â To furnish me with some swift means of death,
    Â Â Â Â For the fair devil: now art thou my lieutenant. [485]
    IAGO. I am your own for ever.
    (Exeunt.)
    Scene 4
    The same.
    Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and the Clown.
    DESDEMONA. Do you know, sirrah , where the Lieutenant Cassio lies?
    CLOWN. I dare not say he lies any where.
    DESDEMONA. Why, man?
    CLOWN. He is a soldier, and for one to say a soldier [5] lies , is stab bing .
    DESDEMONA. Go to, where lodge s he?
    CLOWN. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
    DESDEMONA. Can any thing be made of this? [10]
    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? [15]
    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 in his behalf, and hope all will be well. [20]
    CLOWN. To do this is within the compass of a man, and therefore I’ll attempt the doing of it.
    (Exit.)
    DESDEMONA. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
    EMILIA. I know not, madam.
    DESDEMONA. Believe me, I had rather lose my purse [25]
    Â Â Â Â Full of crusado es : and but my noble Moor
    Â Â Â Â Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness
    Â Â Â Â As jealous creatures are, it were enough
    Â Â Â Â To put him to ill thinking.
    EMILIA . Is he not jealous?
    DESDEMONA. Who, he? I think the sun where he was born [30]
    Â Â Â Â Drew all such humours from him.
    (Enter Othello.)
    EMILIA. Look, where he comes.
    DESDEMONA. I will not leave him now; let Cassio
    Â Â Â Â Be call’d to him. How is it with you, my lord?
    OTHELLO. Well, my good lady: (Aside.) O, hardness to dissemble !
    Â Â Â Â How do you do, Desdemona?
    DESDEMONA. Well, my good lord. [35]
    OTHE LLO. Give me your hand; this hand is moist , my lady.
    DESDEMONA. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sorrow.
    OTHELLO. This argues fruitfulness, and liberal heart;
    Â Â Â Â Hot, hot, and moist, this hand of yours requires
    Â Â Â Â A sequester from liberty; fasting and praying, [40]
    Â Â Â Â Much castigation , exercise devout ;
    Â Â Â Â For here’s a young and sweating devil here,
    Â Â Â Â That commonly rebels: ’tis a good hand,
    Â Â Â Â A frank one.
    DESDEMONA. You may indeed say so,
    Â Â Â Â For ’twas that hand that gave away my heart. [45]
    OTHELLO. A liberal hand; the hearts of old gave hands,
    Â Â Â Â But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
    D ESDEMONA. I cannot speak of this; come, come, your promise.
    OTHELLO. What promise, chuck ?
    D ESDEMONA. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. [50]
    OTHELLO. I have a salt and sullen rheum offends me,
    Â Â Â Â Lend me thy handkerchief.
    DESDEMONA. Here, my lord.
    OTHELLO. That which I gave you.
    DESDEMONA. I have it not about me. [55]
    OTHELLO. Not?
    DESDEMONA. No, faith, my lord.
    OTHELLO. That’s a fault: that handkerchief
    Â Â Â Â Did an Egyptian to my mother give,
    Â Â Â Â She was a charmer , and could almost read
    Â Â Â Â The thoughts of people; she told her, while she kept it [60]
    Â Â Â Â â€™Twould make her amiable , and subdue my father
    Â Â Â Â Entirely to her love: but if she lost it,
    Â Â Â Â Or made a gift of it, my father’s eye
    Â Â Â Â Should hold her loathly , and his spirits should hunt
    Â Â Â Â After new fancies: she dying, gave it me, [65]
    Â Â Â Â And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
    Â Â Â Â To give it her; I did so, and take heed on ’t,
    Â Â Â Â Make it a darling, like your