Othello, Act 3, Scene 4

Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?

Do you know, fellow, where Lieutenant Cassio is lodging?

I dare not say he lies anywhere.

I dare not say he lies anywhere.

Why, man?

Why, man?

He’s a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies is stabbing.

He's a soldier, and to say a soldier lies is to earn a stabbing.

Go to. Where lodges he?

Enough of that. Where is he staying?

To tell you where he lodges is to tell you where I lie.

To tell you where he is staying would be to tell you where I lie.

Can anything be made of this?

Can any sense be made of this?

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.

I don't know where he's staying, and for me to invent a lodging and say he lies here or he lies there would be to lie in my own throat.

Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?

Can you ask around and find him, and be instructed by what people tell you?

I will catechize the world for him, that is, make questions and by them answer.

I will question the whole world about him — that is, I'll ask questions, and get my answers from them.

Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I have moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.

Find him, tell him to come here. Tell him I have urged my husband on his behalf, and hope all will turn out well.

To do this is within the compass of man’s wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing it.

Doing this is within the range of a man's intelligence, and so I'll attempt to do it.

Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?

Where could I have lost that handkerchief, Emilia?

I know not, madam.

I don't know, madam.

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.

Believe me, I would rather have lost my purse full of gold coins. And if it weren't that my noble Moor is honest-minded and made of none of the lowness that jealous people have, this would be enough to set him thinking badly.

Is he not jealous?

Isn't he jealous?

Who, he? I think the sun where he was born Drew all such humours from him.

Who, him? I think the sun of the country where he was born drew all such moods out of him.

Look, where he comes.

Look, here he comes.

I will not leave him now till Cassio Be call’d to him. How is’t with you, my lord?

I won't leave him now until Cassio has been called to him. How are you, my lord?

Well, my good lady. [Aside.] O, hardness to dissemble! How do you, Desdemona?

Well, my good lady. [Aside.] Oh, how hard it is to pretend! How are you, Desdemona?

Well, my good lord.

Well, my good lord.

Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.

Give me your hand. This hand is damp, my lady.

It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.

It has not yet felt age or known any sorrow.

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.

This shows fertility and a generous heart. Hot, hot, and damp. This hand of yours needs to be shut away from freedom, needs fasting and prayer, plenty of punishment and devout religious exercise; for there's a young and sweating devil here that often rebels. It's a good hand, a generous one.

You may indeed say so, For ’twas that hand that gave away my heart.

You may certainly say so, because it was that hand that gave away my heart.

A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands, But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.

A generous hand. In the old days people gave their hearts along with their hands, but our new coat of arms is hands, not hearts.

I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.

I can't talk about this. Come now, your promise.

What promise, chuck?

What promise, sweetheart?

I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.

I have sent word for Cassio to come and speak with you.

I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me. Lend me thy handkerchief.

I have a salty, miserable head cold that's bothering me. Lend me your handkerchief.

Here, my lord.

Here, my lord.

That which I gave you.

The one I gave you.

I have it not about me.

I don't have it with me.

Not?

No?

No, faith, my lord.

No, truly, my lord.

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.

That's a fault. An Egyptian woman gave that handkerchief to my mother. She was a witch, and could almost read people's thoughts. She told my mother that as long as she kept it, it would make her lovable and would bring my father completely under her power and her love. But if she lost it or gave it away, my father's eye would find her hateful, and his spirit would go hunting after new attractions. When she was dying she gave it to me, and told me that when my fate brought me a wife, to give it to her. I did that; so take care of it, treasure it like your own precious eye. To lose it or give it away would be a ruin nothing else could equal.

Is’t possible?

Is that possible?

’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 dyed in mummy, which the skillful Conserv’d of maiden’s hearts.

It's true. There's magic in the weave of it. A prophetess who had counted the sun through two hundred yearly circuits of the world sewed the pattern in her prophetic frenzy; the worms that spun the silk were holy, and it was dyed in a fluid drawn from mummies, which the skilled preserved from the hearts of virgins.

Indeed? Is’t true?

Really? Is it true?

Most veritable, therefore look to ’t well.

Absolutely true, so look after it carefully.

Then would to God that I had never seen ’t!

Then I wish to God I had never seen it!

Ha? wherefore?

What? Why?

Why do you speak so startingly and rash?

Why do you speak so abruptly and violently?

Is’t lost? is’t gone? speak, is it out of the way?

Is it lost? Is it gone? Tell me, has it been mislaid?

Heaven bless us!

Heaven help us!

Say you?

What did you say?

It is not lost, but what and if it were?

It isn't lost — but what if it were?

How?

What?

I say it is not lost.

I say it is not lost.

Fetch’t, let me see ’t.

Go and get it, let me see it.

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.

Well, I can, sir, but I won't right now. This is a trick to distract me from what I'm asking. Please, let Cassio be taken back.

Fetch me the handkerchief! My mind misgives.

Fetch me the handkerchief! I have a bad feeling.

Come, come. You’ll never meet a more sufficient man.

Come, come. You'll never find a more capable man.

The handkerchief!

The handkerchief!

I pray, talk me of Cassio.

Please, talk to me about Cassio.

The handkerchief!

The handkerchief!

A man that all his time Hath founded his good fortunes on your love, Shar’d dangers with you,—

A man who all his life has built his good fortune on your love, shared dangers with you—

The handkerchief!

The handkerchief!

In sooth, you are to blame.

Truly, you're the one at fault.

Away!

Get away!

Is not this man jealous?

Isn't this man jealous?

I ne’er saw this before. Sure there’s some wonder in this handkerchief, I am most unhappy in the loss of it.

I never saw him like this before. There must be some magic in that handkerchief. I'm terribly unlucky to have lost it.

’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.

It takes more than a year or two to show us what a man is. They're all nothing but stomachs, and we're nothing but food. They eat us up greedily, and when they're full, they belch us out.

Look you, Cassio and my husband.

Look, it's Cassio and my husband.

There is no other way; ’tis she must do ’t, And, lo, the happiness! Go and importune her.

There's no other way; she's the one who must do it. And look, what luck! Go and beg her.

How now, good Cassio, what’s the news with you?

Well now, good Cassio, what news do you have?

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.

Madam, the same request as before: I beg you that through your good efforts I may live again and be part of the love of the man whom I honour completely with all the devotion of my heart. I don't want to be kept waiting. If my offence is so deadly that neither my past service, nor my present sorrow, nor the good I intend to do in the future can buy me back into his love, then simply knowing that would be a benefit to me. Then I'll dress myself in a pretended contentment, and shut myself up in some other career, living on whatever charity fortune gives.

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.

Alas, three times gentle Cassio, my pleading is out of tune just now. My husband is not himself; and I wouldn't recognise him if his face were as changed as his mood is. May every blessed spirit help me as surely as I have spoken for you as well as I can, and stood in the target range of his displeasure for speaking so freely! You must be patient for a while. What I can do, I will; and I'll do more than I would dare do for myself. Let that be enough for you.

Is my lord angry?

Is my lord angry?

He went hence but now, And certainly in strange unquietness.

He left here just now, and certainly in a strange state of agitation.

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.

Can he be angry? I've seen the cannon blow his ranks of men into the air, and, like the devil, snatch his own brother from right beside his arm — and can he be angry? Then it must be something serious. I'll go and find him. There's something in it indeed if he's angry.

I prithee do so.

Please do that.

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.

Surely some business of state, either from Venice or some plot not yet hatched that has been uncovered to him here in Cyprus, has muddied his clear mind. And in such cases men's tempers quarrel with small things, even though great ones are what really concerns them. That's just how it is. For let our finger ache, and it spreads that same feeling of pain to the rest of our healthy limbs. No, we must remember that men are not gods, and not expect from them the kind of attentiveness that suits a wedding day. Shame on me, Emilia — I was, poor unskilled soldier that I am, putting his unkindness on trial in my mind. But now I find I had bribed the witness, and he's been falsely accused.

Pray heaven it be state matters, as you think, And no conception nor no jealous toy Concerning you.

I pray to heaven that it is state business, as you think, and not some idea or some jealous fancy about you.

Alas the day, I never gave him cause!

Alas for this day — I never gave him any reason for it!

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.

But jealous souls won't accept that as an answer. They're not always jealous because there's a reason, but jealous because they are jealous. It's a monster that fathers itself and gives birth to itself.

Heaven keep that monster from Othello’s mind!

Heaven keep that monster out of Othello's mind!

Lady, amen.

Amen to that, my lady.

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.

I'll go and look for him. Cassio, walk about nearby. If I find him in the right mood, I'll put your request to him, and try my utmost to get it granted.

I humbly thank your ladyship.

I humbly thank your ladyship.

Save you, friend Cassio!

God save you, Cassio my friend!

What make you from home? How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? I’ faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.

What are you doing away from home? How are you, my most beautiful Bianca? Honestly, sweet love, I was on my way to your house.

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!

And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. What, stay away a whole week? Seven days and nights? A hundred and sixty-eight hours — and hours away from a lover are a hundred and sixty times slower than the clock? Oh, what a wearying count!

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,

Forgive me, Bianca. All this time I've been weighed down by heavy thoughts, but when I have a longer stretch of free time I'll pay off this debt of absence. Sweet Bianca,

Take me this work out.

copy this embroidery for me.

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.

Oh Cassio, where did this come from? This is some gift from a newer girlfriend. Now I feel the reason for the absence I felt. Has it come to this? Well, well.

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.

Enough, woman! Throw your nasty suspicions back into the teeth of the devil you got them from. Now you're jealous, thinking this comes from some mistress, some keepsake. No, truly, Bianca.

Why, whose is it?

Well, whose is it?

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.

I don't know that either. I found it in my room. I like the embroidery very much. Before it's asked for — as it's likely enough it will be — I want it copied. Take it and do it, and leave me alone for now.

Leave you, wherefore?

Leave you? Why?

I do attend here on the general, And think it no addition, nor my wish, To have him see me woman’d.

I'm waiting here for the general, and I don't think it would do me any credit, nor do I want, to have him see me with a woman.

Why, I pray you?

Why not, please tell me?

Not that I love you not.

It's not that I don't love you.

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.

But that you don't love me. Please walk with me a little way, and tell me whether I'll see you early tonight.

’Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend here. But I’ll see you soon.

It's only a short way that I can walk with you, because I have to wait here. But I'll see you soon.

’Tis very good; I must be circumstanc’d.

That's fine; I have to accept the circumstances.