IAGO.
I do not like the office,
But sith I am enter’d in this cause so far,
Prick’d to ’t by foolish honesty and love,
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs.
One of this kind is Cassio:
In sleep I heard him say, “Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our loves;”
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,
Cry “O sweet creature!” and then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots,
That grew upon my lips, then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh’d and kiss’d, and then
Cried “Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!”
OTHELLO.
O monstrous! monstrous!
IAGO.
Nay, this was but his dream.
OTHELLO.
But this denoted a foregone conclusion.
’Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.
IAGO.
And this may help to thicken other proofs
That do demonstrate thinly.
OTHELLO.
I’ll tear her all to pieces.
IAGO.
Nay, but be wise. Yet we see nothing done,
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wife’s hand?
OTHELLO.
I gave her such a one, ’twas my first gift.
IAGO.
I know not that: but such a handkerchief
(I am sure it was your wife’s) did I today
See Cassio wipe his beard with.
OTHELLO.
If it be that,—