It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will.
Come, be a man: drown thyself! drown cats and blind puppies. I
have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to
thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could
never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow
thou the wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard; I say,
put money in thy purse. It cannot be that Desdemona should long
continue her love to the Moor, — put money in thy purse, — nor he
his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an
answerable sequestration; — put but money in thy purse. — These
Moors are changeable in their wills: — fill thy purse with money:
the food that to him now is as luscious as locusts shall be to
him shortly as acerb as the coloquintida. She must change for
youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error
of her choice: she must have change, she must: therefore put
money in thy purse. — If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a
more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst;
if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian and a
supersubtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the
tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox
of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather
to be hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go
Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?
Thou art sure of me: — go, make money: — I have told thee
often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: my
cause is hearted; thine hath no less reason. Let us be
conjunctive in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold
him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many
events in the womb of time which will be delivered. Traverse; go;
provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu.
Where shall we meet i' the morning?
At my lodging.
I'll be with thee betimes.
Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo?
What say you?
No more of drowning, do you hear?
I am changed: I'll go sell all my land.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse;
For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane
If I would time expend with such a snipe
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor;
And it is thought abroad that 'twixt my sheets
He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well,
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassio's a proper man: let me see now;
To get his place, and to plume up my will
In double knavery, — How, how? — Let's see: —
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear
That he is too familiar with his wife: —
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected; fram'd to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so;
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
As asses are.
I have't; — it is engender'd: — hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.