Part 8 (1/2)

”_Iago._ My n.o.ble lord.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ What dost thou say, Iago?

_Iago._ Did Michael Ca.s.sio, When you woo'd my lady, know of your love?

_Oth.e.l.lo._ He did from first to last.

Why dost thou ask?

_Iago._ But for a satisfaction of my thought, No further harm.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Why of thy thought, Iago?

_Iago._ I did not think he had been acquainted with it.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ O yes, and went between us very oft--

_Iago._ Indeed!

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Indeed? Ay, indeed. Discern'st thou aught of that?

Is he not honest?

_Iago._ Honest, my lord?

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Honest? Ay, honest.

_Iago._ My lord, for aught I know.

_Oth.e.l.lo._ What do'st thou think?

_Iago._ Think, my lord!

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Think, my lord! Alas, thou echo'st me, As if there was some monster in thy thought Too hideous to be shewn.”--

The stops and breaks, the deep workings of treachery under the mask of love and honesty, the anxious watchfulness, the cool earnestness, and if we may so say, the _pa.s.sion_ of hypocrisy, marked in every line, receive their last finis.h.i.+ng in that inconceivable burst of pretended indignation at Oth.e.l.lo's doubts of his sincerity.

”O grace! O Heaven forgive me!

Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?

G.o.d be wi' you: take mine office. O wretched fool, That lov'st to make thine honesty a vice!

Ob monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world!

To be direct and honest, is not safe.

I thank you for this profit, and from hence I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.”

If Iago is detestable enough when he has business on his hands and all his engines at work, he is still worse when he has nothing to do, and we only see into the hollowness of his heart. His indifference when Oth.e.l.lo falls into a swoon, is perfectly diabolical.

”_Iago._ How is it, General? Have you not hurt your head?

_Oth.e.l.lo._ Do'st thou mock me?

_Iago._ I mock you not, by Heaven,” etc.