NORTH.
Othello and Desdemona have just gone out—to do the honours at the Dinner Table to the generous Islanders. He must have been a strange Chairman—for though not yet absolutely mad, his soul was sorely changed. Perhaps he made some apology, and was not at that Dinner at all—perhaps it was never eaten—but we lose sight of him for a little while; and Emilia, who remains behind, picks up the fatal handkerchief, and, with a strange wilfulness, or worse, says—
"I'll have the work ta'en out.
And give't Iago."
Iago snatches it from her—and in soliloquy says—
"I will in Cassio's lodgings lose this napkin,
And let him find it."
"This may do something,—
The Moor already changes with the poison:
Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons,
Which at the first, are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little, act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur.—I did say so:—
Enter Othello.
Look! where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst yesterday."
Then follows, without break, all the rest of this dreadful Third Scene. The first dose of the poison—the second, and third, and fourth—are all given on one and the same day. The mineral has gnawed through all the coats of the stomach—and He has sworn to murder Her—all in one day. We have Iago's word for it. Yesterday his sleep was sweet—how happy he was then we can imagine—how miserable he is now we see—"what a difference to him," and in him, between Saturday and Sunday!
"O, blood! Iago, blood!
Now by yond' marble heaven,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow,
I here engage my words.
Iago. Do not rise yet. [Kneels.
Witness, you ever-burning lights above!
You elements, that clip us round about!
Witness, that here Iago doth give up,
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody work soever."