Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards.
And nothing can nor shall content my soul
Till I am evened with him, wife for wife,
Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor
At least into a jealousy so strong
That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poor trash of Venice, whom I thrash
For his quick hunting, stand the putting-on,
I'll have our Michael Cassioon the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb--
For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too--
Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me
For making him egregiously an ass
And practising upon his peace and quiet
Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused.
Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
in my power
as his wife's lover
[Enter OTHELLO'S HERALD, with a proclamation,
HERALD. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant
general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, importing
the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put
himself into triumph--some to dance, some to make bon
fires, each man to what sport and revels his addiction
leads him. For, besides these beneficial news, it is the
celebration of his nuptial. So much was his pleasure
should be proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is
full liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till
the bell have tolled eleven. Heaven bless the isle of
Cyprus and our noble general Othello!
with free drinks
[Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and ATTENDANTS.]
OTHELLO. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-
Let's teach ourselves that honorable stop,
Not to outsport discretion.
CASSIO. Iago hath direction what to do,