prompt:
Chapter: SCENE III.
The garden of the castle.

Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and Emilia.

  DESDEMONA. Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do
    All my abilities in thy behalf.
  EMILIA. Good madam, do. I warrant it grieves my husband
    As if the cause were his.
  DESDEMONA. O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio,
    But I will have my lord and you again
    As friendly as you were.
  CASSIO.                    Bounteous madam,
    Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,
    He's never anything but your true servant.
  DESDEMONA. I know't: I thank you. You do love my lord:
    You have known him long; and be you well assured
    He shall in strangeness stand no farther off
    Than in a politic distance.
  CASSIO.                       Ay, but, lady,
    That policy may either last so long,
    Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
    Or breed itself so out of circumstances,
    That I being absent and my place supplied,
    My general will forget my love and service.
  DESDEMONA. Do not doubt that. Before Emilia here
    I give thee warrant of thy place, assure thee,
    If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
    To the last article. My lord shall never rest;
    I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience;
    His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
    I'll intermingle everything he does
    With Cassio's suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio,
    For thy solicitor shall rather die
    Than give thy cause away.

                Enter Othello and Iago, at a distance.

  EMILIA. Madam, here comes my lord.
  CASSIO. Madam, I'll take my leave.
  DESDEMONA. Nay, stay and hear me speak.
  CASSIO. Madam, not now. I am very ill at ease,
    Unfit for mine own purposes.
  DESDEMONA. Well, do your discretion.                   Exit
Cassio.
  IAGO. Ha! I like not that.
  OTHELLO. What dost thou say?
  IAGO. Nothing, my lord; or if--I know not what.
  OTHELLO. Was not that Cassio parted from my wife?
  IAGO. Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it,
    That he would steal away so guilty-like,
    Seeing you coming.
  OTHELLO.             I do believe 'twas he.
  DESDEMONA. How now, my lord!
    I have been talking with a suitor here,
    A man that languishes in your displeasure.
  OTHELLO. Who is't you mean?
  DESDEMONA. Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord,
    If I have any grace or power to move you,
    His present reconciliation take;
    For if he be not one that truly loves you,
    That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
    I have no judgement in an honest face.
    I prithee, call him back.
  OTHELLO.                    Went he hence now?
  DESDEMONA. Ay, sooth; so humbled
    That he hath left part of his grief with me
    To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
  OTHELLO. Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
  DESDEMONA. But shall't be shortly?
  OTHELLO.                           The sooner, sweet, for you.
  DESDEMONA. Shall't be tonight at supper?
  OTHELLO.                                 No, not tonight.
  DESDEMONA. Tomorrow dinner then?
  OTHELLO.                         I shall not dine at home;
    I meet the captains at the citadel.
  DESDEMONA. Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,
    On Tuesday noon, or night, on Wednesday morn.
    I prithee, name the time, but let it not
    Exceed three days. In faith, he's penitent;
    And yet his trespass, in our common reason--
    Save that, they say, the wars must make example
    Out of their best--is not almost a fault
    To incur a private check. When shall he come?
    Tell me, Othello. I wonder in my soul,
    What you would ask me, that I should deny,
    Or stand so mammering on. What? Michael Cassio,
    That came awooing with you, and so many a time
    When I have spoke of you dispraisingly
    Hath ta'en your part--to have so much to do
    To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much--
  OTHELLO. Prithee, no more. Let him come when he will;
    I will deny thee nothing.
  DESDEMONA.                  Why, this is not a boon;
    'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
    Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
    Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
    To your own person. Nay, when I have a suit
    Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
    It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
    And fearful to be granted.
  OTHELLO.                     I will deny thee nothing,
    Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
    To leave me but a little to myself.
  DESDEMONA. Shall I deny you? No. Farewell, my lord.
  OTHELLO. Farewell, my Desdemona; I'll come to thee straight.
  DESDEMONA. Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you;
    Whate'er you be, I am obedient.
                                         Exeunt Desdemona and
Emilia.
  OTHELLO. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
    But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,
    Chaos is come again.
  IAGO. My noble lord--
  OTHELLO.             What dost thou say, Iago?
  IAGO. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
    Know of your love?
  OTHELLO. He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?
  IAGO. But for a satisfaction of my thought;
    No further harm.
  OTHELLO.           Why of thy thought, Iago?
  IAGO. I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
  OTHELLO. O, yes, and went between us very oft.
  IAGO. Indeed!
  OTHELLO. Indeed? ay, indeed. Discern'st thou aught in that?
    Is he not honest?
  IAGO. Honest, my lord?
  OTHELLO. Honest? Ay, honest.
  IAGO. My lord, for aught I know.
  OTHELLO. What dost thou think?
  IAGO. Think, my lord?
  OTHELLO. Think, my lord? By heaven, he echoes me,
    As if there were some monster in his thought
    Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something.
    I heard thee say even now, thou like'st not that,
    When Cassio left my wife. What didst not like?
    And when I told thee he was of my counsel
    In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst, "Indeed!"
    And didst contract and purse thy brow together,
    As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
    Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,
    Show me thy thought.
  IAGO. My lord, you know I love you.
  OTHELLO.                            I think thou dost;
    And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty
    And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath,
    Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more;
    For such things in a false disloyal knave
    Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just
    They're close dilations, working from the heart,
    That passion cannot rule.
  IAGO.                       For Michael Cassio,
    I dare be sworn I think that he is honest.
  OTHELLO. I think so too.
  IAGO.                    Men should be what they seem;
    Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
  OTHELLO. Certain, men should be what they seem.
  IAGO. Why then I think Cassio's an honest man.
  OTHELLO. Nay, yet there's more in this.
    I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,
    As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts
    The worst of words.
  IAGO.                 Good my lord, pardon me;
    Though I am bound to every act of duty,
    I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
    Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false;
    As where's that palace whereinto foul things
    Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure,
    But some uncleanly apprehensions
    Keep leets and law-days, and in session sit
    With meditations lawful?
  OTHELLO. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
    If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear
    A stranger to thy thoughts.
  IAGO.                         I do beseech you--
    Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,
    As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
    To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy
    Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet,
    From one that so imperfectly conceits,
    Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble
    Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
    It were not for your quiet nor your good,
    Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
    To let you know my thoughts.
  OTHELLO.                       What dost thou mean?
  IAGO. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
    Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
    Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
    'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
    But he that filches from me my good name
    Robs me of that which not enriches him
    And makes me poor indeed.
  OTHELLO. By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.
  IAGO. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;
    Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
  OTHELLO. Ha!
  IAGO.        O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
    It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
    The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
    Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
    But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
    Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
  OTHELLO. O misery!
  IAGO. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;
    But riches fineless is as poor as winter
    To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
    Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
    From jealousy!
  OTHELLO.         Why, why is this?
    Think'st thou I'ld make a life of jealousy,
    To follow still the changes of the moon
    With fresh suspicions? No! To be once in doubt
    Is once to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat
    When I shall turn the business of my soul
    To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,
    Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous
    To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
    Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
    Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.
    Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
    The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;
    For she had eyes and chose me. No, Iago,
    I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
    And on the proof, there is no more but this--
    Away at once with love or jealousy!
  IAGO. I am glad of it, for now I shall have reason
    To show the love and duty that I bear you
    With franker spirit. Therefore, as I am bound,
    Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
    Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio;
    Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure.
    I would not have your free and noble nature
    Out of self-bounty be abused. Look to't.
    I know our country disposition well;
    In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks
    They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience
    Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
  OTHELLO. Dost thou say so?
  IAGO. She did deceive her father, marrying you;
    And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks,
    She loved them most.
  OTHELLO.               And so she did.
  IAGO.                                  Why, go to then.
    She that so young could give out such a seeming,
    To seal her father's eyes up close as oak--
    He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame;
    I humbly do beseech you of your pardon
    For too much loving you.
  OTHELLO.                   I am bound to thee forever.
  IAGO. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.
  OTHELLO. Not a jot, not a jot.
  IAGO.                          I'faith, I fear it has.
    I hope you will consider what is spoke
    Comes from my love. But I do see you're moved;
    I am to pray you not to strain my speech
    To grosser issues nor to larger reach
    Than to suspicion.
  OTHELLO. I will not.
  IAGO.                Should you do so, my lord,
    My speech should fall into such vile success
    Which my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy friend--
    My lord, I see you're moved.
  OTHELLO.                       No, not much moved.
    I do not think but Desdemona's honest.
  IAGO. Long live she so! and long live you to think so!
  OTHELLO. And yet, how nature erring from itself--
  IAGO. Ay, there's the point, as--to be bold with you--
    Not to affect many proposed matches
    Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
    Whereto we see in all things nature tends--
    Foh, one may smell in such a will most rank,
    Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural.
    But pardon me. I do not in position
    Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear,
    Her will, recoiling to her better judgement,
    May fall to match you with her country forms,
    And happily repent.
  OTHELLO.              Farewell, farewell.
    If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
    Set on thy wife to observe. Leave me, Iago.
  IAGO. [Going.] My lord, I take my leave.
  OTHELLO. Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless
    Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
  IAGO. [Returning.] My lord, I would I might entreat your honor
    To scan this thing no further; leave it to time.
    Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,
    For sure he fills it up with great ability,
    Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,
    You shall by that perceive him and his means.
    Note if your lady strain his entertainment
    With any strong or vehement importunity;
    Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,
    Let me be thought too busy in my fears--
    As worthy cause I have to fear I am--
    And hold her free, I do beseech your honor.
  OTHELLO. Fear not my government.
  IAGO. I once more take my leave.
Exit.
  OTHELLO. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
    And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,
    Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
    Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,
    I'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind
    To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black
    And have not those soft parts of conversation
    That chamberers have, or for I am declined
    Into the vale of years--yet that's not much--
    She's gone. I am abused, and my relief
    Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,
    That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
    And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
    And live upon the vapor of a dungeon,
    Than keep a corner in the thing I love
    For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones:
    Prerogatived are they less than the base;
    'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death.
    Even then this forked plague is fated to us
    When we do quicken. Desdemona comes:

                    Re-enter Desdemona and Emilia.

    If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!
    I'll not believe't.
  DESDEMONA.            How now, my dear Othello!
    Your dinner, and the generous islanders
    By you invited, do attend your presence.
  OTHELLO. I am to blame.
  DESDEMONA.              Why do you speak so faintly?
    Are you not well?
  OTHELLO. I have a pain upon my forehead here.
  DESDEMONA. Faith, that's with watching; 'twill away again.
    Let me but bind it hard, within this hour
    It will be well.
  OTHELLO.           Your napkin is too little;
            He puts the handkerchief from him, and she drops it.
    Let it alone. Come, I'll go in with you.
  DESDEMONA. I am very sorry that you are not well.
                                        Exeunt Othello and
Desdemona.
  EMILIA. I am glad I have found this napkin;
    This was her first remembrance from the Moor.
    My wayward husband hath a hundred times
    Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
    For he conjured her she should ever keep it,
    That she reserves it evermore about her
    To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
    And give't Iago. What he will do with it
    Heaven knows, not I;
    I nothing but to please his fantasy.

                            Re-enter Iago.

  IAGO. How now, what do you here alone?
  EMILIA. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.
  IAGO. A thing for me? It is a common thing--
  EMILIA. Ha!
  IAGO. To have a foolish wife.
  EMILIA. O, is that all? What will you give me now
    For that same handkerchief?
  IAGO.                         What handkerchief?
  EMILIA. What handkerchief?
    Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona,
    That which so often you did bid me steal.
  IAGO. Hast stol'n it from her?
  EMILIA. No, faith; she let it drop by negligence,
    And, to the advantage, I being here took't up.
    Look, here it is.
  IAGO.               A good wench; give it me.
  EMILIA. What will you do with't, that you have been so earnest
    To have me filch it?
  IAGO. [Snatching it.] Why, what is that to you?
  EMILIA. If't be not for some purpose of import,
    Give't me again. Poor lady, she'll run mad
    When she shall lack it.
  IAGO. Be not acknown on't; I have use for it.
    Go, leave me.                                        Exit
Emilia.
    I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
    And let him find it. Trifles light as air
    Are to the jealous confirmations strong
    As proofs of holy writ; this may do something.
    The Moor already changes with my 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.
    Look, where he comes!

                          Re-enter Othello.

                          Not poppy, nor mandragora,
    Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
    Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
    Which thou owedst yesterday.
  OTHELLO.                       Ha, ha, false to me?
  IAGO. Why, how now, general! No more of that.
  OTHELLO. Avaunt! be gone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
    I swear 'tis better to be much abused
    Than but to know't a little.
  IAGO.                          How now, my lord?
  OTHELLO. What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
    I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me;
    I slept the next night well, was free and merry;
    I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips.
    He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,
    Let him not know't and he's not robb'd at all.
  IAGO. I am sorry to hear this.
  OTHELLO. I had been happy if the general camp,
    Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
    So I had nothing known. O, now forever
    Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
    Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars
    That make ambition virtue! O, farewell,
    Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
    The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
    The royal banner, and all quality,
    Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
    And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
    The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit,
    Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
  IAGO. Is't possible, my lord?
  OTHELLO. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore;
    Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof;
    Or, by the worth of man's eternal soul,
    Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
    Than answer my waked wrath!
  IAGO.                         Is't come to this?
  OTHELLO. Make me to see't; or at the least so prove it,
    That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
    To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!
  IAGO. My noble lord--
  OTHELLO. If thou dost slander her and torture me,
    Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
    On horror's head horrors accumulate;
    Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
    For nothing canst thou to damnation add
    Greater than that.
  IAGO.                O grace! O heaven defend me!
    Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?
    God be wi' you; take mine office. O wretched fool,
    That livest to make thine honesty a vice!
    O 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 sith love breeds such offense.
  OTHELLO. Nay, stay; thou shouldst be honest.
  IAGO. I should be wise; for honesty's a fool,
    And loses that it works for.
  OTHELLO.                       By the world,
    I think my wife be honest, and think she is not;
    I think that thou art just, and think thou art not.
    I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh
    As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black
    As mine own face. If there be cords or knives,
    Poison or fire, or suffocating streams,
    I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
  IAGO. I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion;
    I do repent me that I put it to you.
    You would be satisfied?
  OTHELLO.                  Would? Nay, I will.
  IAGO. And may. But, how? how satisfied, my lord?
    Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on?
    Behold her topp'd?
  OTHELLO.             Death and damnation! O!
  IAGO. It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
    To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then,
    If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
    More than their own! What then? how then?
    What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?
    It is impossible you should see this
    Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
    As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
    As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,
    If imputation and strong circumstances,
    Which lead directly to the door of truth,
    Will give you satisfaction, you may have't.
  OTHELLO. Give me a living reason she's disloyal.
  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--
  IAGO. If it be that, or any that was hers,
    It speaks against her with the other proofs.
  OTHELLO. O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!
    One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
    Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, Iago,
    All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.
    'Tis gone.
    Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow hell!
    Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
    To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
    For 'tis of aspics' tongues!
  IAGO.                          Yet be content.
  OTHELLO. O, blood, blood, blood!
  IAGO. Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.
  OTHELLO. Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea,
    Whose icy current and compulsive course
    Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
    To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
    Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
    Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,
    Till that a capable and wide revenge
    Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,
    In the due reverence of a sacred vow
Kneels.
    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 business ever.                             They
rise.
  OTHELLO.                     I greet thy love,
    Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
    And will upon the instant put thee to't:
    Within these three days let me hear thee say
    That Cassio's not alive.
  IAGO. My friend is dead, 'tis done at your request;
    But let her live.
  OTHELLO.            Damn her, lewd minx! O, damn her!
    Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,
    To furnish me with some swift means of death
    For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.
  IAGO. I am your own forever.
Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Cassio has explained the whole situation to Desdemona, and she promises to not rest until she's convinced Othello to reinstate Cassio as his lieutenant and renew their friendship. Cassio declares he's forever indebted to her, and Desdemona again emphasizes that she'll do everything she can. She even says, "Thy solicitor shall rather die/ Than give thy cause away" . Definition: foreshadowing. Seeing Othello coming, Cassio decides it's time to leave. Desdemona tells him to stay, but Cassio feels too weird and hurries out. Thus, Iago begins his make-Othello-jealous campaign by commenting on how weird it is that Cassio hurried off so quickly, like a thief stealing away in the night. Desdemona jumps right into sweet-talking Othello and campaigning for Cassio. She claims that Cassio is really sorry, and suggests Othello call Cassio back to plead his case. Othello says "not now," and Desdemona says something like, "well, maybe tomorrow, or Tuesday morning, or Tuesday night, or Wednesday morning, or how about Wednesday night?" When Othello keeps putting her off, Desdemona claims she would never deny him anything, so why won't he listen to her? Besides, she has his best interests in mind. Othello responds that he will deny her nothing, but in the meantime could she please leave him alone. Iago asks fake-casual questions about Cassio, whom Othello says was often a go-between when he courted Desdemona. Iago keeps dropping uncomfortable hints, and finally, Othello demands to know what's bothering him. Iago says he'd rather not say, and then Othello presses him, and then Iago says he'd rather not say, and Othello presses. Eventually, after Iago has cast doubt on Cassio's honesty, suggested he is disloyal, and hinted that Desdemona is unfaithful, Iago tells Othello, "O beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock / the meat it feeds on" . That's great, except that by "beware" he really means "I hope you become jealous and kill your wife, because that would be ironic." Othello says that he's not the type to get jealous--he builds his conclusions upon having suspicions, but only after he investigates them. If something seems wrong, he'll find out what's happening right away and resolve the situation. Othello knows Desdemona is desirable, and that he himself isn't, but that doesn't bother him. "She had eyes and chose me," Othello tells himself . Further, Othello promises he has to see something to raise his suspicion before he'd have doubts about his wife's loyalty, and if he were to see and have doubts, he'd prove whether they were justified right away. This strategy helps him avoid being too influenced in his reason by love or jealousy. It's a good plan, except if it does exist, he doesn't use it. Iago essentially says, "Okay, if you promise you won't be jealous, you should watch Desdemona with Cassio, but objectively, and not out of jealousy." Iago says he knows well the ways of the women of Venice: they are promiscuous, and though heaven knows their little exploits, their men don't. Iago adds helpfully that Desdemona did deceive her father in order to marry Othello. He's implying, as Brabantio earlier did, that Desdemona is not to be trusted, as she is a woman, and thus a liar. Basically, Hamlet could get together with these guys and have a big anti-women party. Othello is persuaded by what Iago has said, and it's clear the seed of suspicion has been planted. Iago tells Othello that he hopes he hasn't ruined his day. This is the trickiest, most dastardly bit of all, because he totally hopes he has ruined Othello's day. Who's a liar now? Othello assures Iago that he's a-okay, and Iago insists all of his speculations come from a place of love. Further, he tells Othello not to stretch out these suspicions into anything more serious or dangerous. Othello promises he isn't much moved, and also, he may still think Desdemona is honest. "Still," Othello falters, "sometimes nature wrongs itself..." Iago seizes on this thought, playing painfully on Othello's insecurity. Iago claims it was against Desdemona's God-given nature to reject all of the suitors who came from her country, had her complexion, and her status. Iago contends that Desdemona's unnatural choice against these suitors suggests that other "foul disproportions thoughts unnatural" might dwell in Desdemona's breast. Iago says he only brings this up to point out that one day, Desdemona might come back to her natural senses, repent her choice to marry Othello, and give him up for someone else less... well... black. On this despicable note, Iago leaves Othello to brood over the possibility that Desdemona is cheating on him, an undesirable black man. As Othello's busy wondering why he ever got married, Iago comes back to twist the knife a little more. Acting regretful, Iago tells Othello not to think about it too much--it's probably nothing, he's probably overreacting, but just in case, Othello should keep an eye out for anything sketchy, especially anything like Desdemona seeming really keen on Cassio getting his position back. Iago once again leaves Othello to his thoughts. Now alone, Othello praises Iago for being an honest man, a man insightful about matters of the heart. He then reflects on his relationship with Desdemona, using terminology from the gentleman's sport of falconry: in a rare moment of exquisite vulnerability, Othello compares Desdemona to his falcon. He says if he does find that she is wild , then, though the leather straps that would tie her to his wrists are actually his heart-strings, he would release her to fly on the wind at fortune, both "at random" and "to her fate," though he'd not know if she would ever return to him. Othello undercuts this beautifully noble sentiment by thinking of other reasons Desdemona might be unfaithful to him. Whatever it is, Othello concludes Desdemona is lost to him; his only relief from his grief will now be to hate her. Othello laments his position: men may say their women belong to them, yet they can never own their women's appetites for love and lust. Still, Othello admits he could not bear to let others have even a little of his love's love. He decides this is the inevitable fate of important men: they are destined to be betrayed, even from the moment they're born. Emilia and Desdemona come in, and for a moment Othello's mind reverses almost immediately; he can't believe that his wife would betray him. Desdemona has come to bring him to supper, along with the native Cypriots he's invited to dine. But he's not so ready for the partying; Othello's jealousy has already made him physically ill. Desdemona notices that her husband seems unwell, and she tries to soothe him, offering to bind up his head with her handkerchief. Othello declares her handkerchief to be too little, and pushes it away from him. The two exit, leaving Emilia alone in the room. Emilia's got her eyes on Desdemona's handkerchief, which Othello dropped during his angry moment. Emilia reveals that this was Othello's first love token to his wife, and her husband, Iago, has often asked her to steal it. She hasn't been able to do so yet, as Desdemona loves it like a security blanket. Emilia decides to have the embroidery pattern copied, and then she'll give it to her husband, Iago. She doesn't know what plans he has for it, but like a good wife, she'll make him happy, in the hopes that he'll love her in return. Iago comes in and casually mocks his wife, as he usually does. Emilia, proud, produces the handkerchief. She admits she didn't steal it, but that Desdemona let it drop by negligence. Iago is pleased. He gives his wife a quick "good girl" before reverting to his usual rude self and telling her to hand it over. She asks what he intends to do with it before she hands it over, and Iago declares that's none of her business. Emilia says that, her business or not, it had better be a good reason, as Desdemona will go mad once she realizes her favorite love token is gone. Iago instructs his wife to forget the whole incident. After he's grabbed the handkerchief, he orders her to leave. Iago decides to put the handkerchief in Cassio's room, in order to fuel Othello's suspicions. Though the token is only a little thing, it's enough of a confirmation to set off Othello's jealous fantasies about what Cassio might be doing with the handkerchief . Watching Othello enter again, Iago gloats that none of the drugs in the world could make the man rest easy, now that he's worried about his wife. Othello takes his own turn to curse; he declares it's better to be greatly wronged and know about it than to have just a bit of suspicion that one is wronged. Iago acts confused, as though he doesn't understand that Othello is angry at him for planting the seed of suspicion. Othello declares that he would never have suspected Desdemona before, since a man who's robbed of something and doesn't know it is as good as not having been robbed at all. Basically, even if Desdemona is sleeping all over Cyprus, Othello would be better off not knowing about it. As it stands, knowing of Desdemona's potential unfaithfulness has destroyed Othello's own identity. His peaceful mind, his happiness, and even his standing as a soldier are all tainted by this knowledge. Desdemona has unmanned him, and even Othello's proud victories on the battlefield now seem out of reach. He demands that Iago give him proof of Desdemona's cheating on him. If Iago is just playing with him, he's going to really regret it. Iago acts all insulted that Othello doesn't trust him, and cries out that it's an awful world where one can be punished so much for their well-intentioned honesty. Othello agrees Iago should be honest, and again demands that he bring him proof of Desdemona's infidelity. Iago describes how difficult it would be to prove infidelity; would Othello like to see Desdemona and Cassio caught in the throes of passion? Iago then painstakingly conjures an image of Desdemona and Cassio being passionate together, and says Othello wouldn't like to see that, now would he? The power of the mental image is key here. After this vivid description, Othello again presses Iago for some good reason why he should suspect Desdemona. Iago describes how at one time he did "lay with Cassio" . Iago was kept up by a toothache, and he was awake to hear, he claims, Cassio mumbling in his sleep. Iago recounts that Cassio supposedly called out to Desdemona in his sleep, telling her to be cautious and hide their love. Then Cassio started writhing around in the bed and kissing Iago's hand as if it were Desdemona. At this point, we're kind of confused as to why Iago wouldn't wake Cassio up and say, "Excuse me, please stop making out with my hand." Anyway, the still-asleep-and-dreaming Cassio then supposedly threw his legs over Iago's thighs, kissed some more, and finally declared, "Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!" , in case Iago had left any doubt. Othello, not surprisingly, is furious, but Iago is quick to note that this was all just Cassio dreaming, a highly incriminating dream, no doubt, but a dream nonetheless. Regardless, Othello is totally convinced by this story about Cassio in bed. With great timing, Iago puts the final nail in the coffin. Still playing innocent, and instructing Othello to be calm , he tells Othello he saw Cassio with Desdemona's special handkerchief. Hearing this, Othello announces all his love for Desdemona is gone. He's now out for blood and revenge, hopefully in one convenient package. Iago, hearing this, makes some paltry attempts to remind Othello that they've only got suspicions, but again, this only sharpens Othello's desire for revenge. Othello then kneels and swears that his former love for Desdemona will not stop him from bloodily avenging her betrayal. Iago kneels with him and vows to do whatever it takes to help regain honor. Othello asks him to kill Cassio. Iago agrees and slyly adds, "but let her live" , speaking of Desdemona. "Damn her, lewd minx!" Othello curses. Othello's decided that she has to die. To close the scene, Iago declares, "I am your own for ever" , actually meaning that he's totally owned Othello.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE IV.
Before the castle.

Enter Desdemona, Emilia, and Clown.

  DESDEMONA. Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?
  CLOWN. I dare not say he lies anywhere.
  DESDEMONA. Why, man?
  CLOWN. He's a soldier; and for one to say a soldier lies, is
    stabbing.
  DESDEMONA. Go to! Where lodges he?
  CLOWN. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.
  DESDEMONA. Can anything be made of this?
  CLOWN. I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a
lodging,
    and say he lies here or he lies there, were to lie in mine
own
    throat.
  DESDEMONA. Can you inquire him out and be edified by report?
  CLOWN. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make
questions
    and by them answer.
  DESDEMONA. Seek him, bid him come hither. Tell him I have moved
my
    lord on his behalf and hope all will be well.
  CLOWN. To do this is within the compass of man's wit, and
therefore
    I will attempt the doing it.
Exit.
  DESDEMONA. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?
  EMILIA. I know not, madam.
  DESDEMONA. Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse
    Full of crusadoes; and, but my noble Moor
    Is true of mind and made of no such baseness
    As jealous creatures are, it were enough
    To put him to ill thinking.
  EMILIA.                       Is he not jealous?
  DESDEMONA. Who, he? I think the sun where he was born
    Drew all such humors from him.
  EMILIA.                          Look, where he comes.
  DESDEMONA. I will not leave him now till Cassio
    Be call'd to him.

                            Enter Othello.

                      How is't with you, my lord?
  OTHELLO. Well, my good lady. [Aside.] O, hardness to dissemble!
    How do you, Desdemona?
  DESDEMONA.               Well, my good lord.
  OTHELLO. Give me your hand. This hand is moist, my lady.
  DESDEMONA. It yet has felt no age nor known no sorrow.
  OTHELLO. This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart;
    Hot, hot, and moist. This hand of yours requires
    A sequester from liberty, fasting, and prayer,
    Much castigation, exercise devout,
    For here's a young and sweating devil here
    That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand,
    A frank one.
  DESDEMONA. You may, indeed, say so;
    For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart.
  OTHELLO. A liberal hand. The hearts of old gave hands;
    But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.
  DESDEMONA. I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.
  OTHELLO. What promise, chuck?
  DESDEMONA. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.
  OTHELLO. I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;
    Lend me thy handkerchief.
  DESDEMONA. Here, my lord.
  OTHELLO. That which I gave you.
  DESDEMONA. I have it not about me.
  OTHELLO. Not?
  DESDEMONA. No, faith, my lord.
  OTHELLO. That's a fault. That handkerchief
    Did an Egyptian to my mother give;
    She was a charmer, and could almost read
    The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
    'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
    Entirely to her love, but if she lost it
    Or made a gift of it, my father's eye
    Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt
    After new fancies. She dying gave it me,
    And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,
    To give it her. I did so, and take heed on't;
    Make it a darling like your precious eye;
    To lose't or give't away were such perdition
    As nothing else could match.
  DESDEMONA.                     Is't possible?
  OTHELLO. 'Tis true; there's magic in the web of it.
    A sibyl, that had number'd in the world
    The sun to course two hundred compasses,
    In her prophetic fury sew'd the work;
    The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk,
    And it was dyed in mummy which the skillful
    Conserved of maiden's hearts.
  DESDEMONA.                      Indeed! is't true?
  OTHELLO. Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
  DESDEMONA. Then would to God that I had never seen't!
  OTHELLO. Ha! wherefore?
  DESDEMONA. Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
  OTHELLO. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out o' the way?
  DESDEMONA. Heaven bless us!
  OTHELLO. Say you?
  DESDEMONA. It is not lost; but what an if it were?
  OTHELLO. How?
  DESDEMONA. I say, it is not lost.
  OTHELLO. Fetch't, let me see it.
  DESDEMONA. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now.
    This is a trick to put me from my suit.
    Pray you, let Cassio be received again.
  OTHELLO. Fetch me the handkerchief, my mind misgives.
  DESDEMONA. Come, come,
    You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
  OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
  DESDEMONA.                 I pray, talk me of Cassio.
  OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
  DESDEMONA.                 A man that all his time
    Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
    Shared dangers with you--
  OTHELLO. The handkerchief!
  DESDEMONA. In sooth, you are to blame.
  OTHELLO. Away!
Exit.
  EMILIA. Is not this man jealous?
  DESDEMONA. I ne'er saw this before.
    Sure there's some wonder in this handkerchief;
    I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
  EMILIA. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man.
    They are all but stomachs and we all but food;
    They eat us hungerly, and when they are full
    They belch us. Look you! Cassio and my husband.

                        Enter Cassio and Iago.

  IAGO. There is no other way; 'tis she must do't.
    And, lo, the happiness! Go and importune her.
  DESDEMONA. How now, good Cassio! What's the news with you?
  CASSIO. Madam, my former suit: I do beseech you
    That by your virtuous means I may again
    Exist and be a member of his love
    Whom I with all the office of my heart
    Entirely honor. I would not be delay'd.
    If my offense be of such mortal kind
    That nor my service past nor present sorrows
    Nor purposed merit in futurity
    Can ransom me into his love again,
    But to know so must be my benefit;
    So shall I clothe me in a forced content
    And shut myself up in some other course
    To Fortune's alms.
  DESDEMONA.           Alas, thrice-gentle Cassio!
    My advocation is not now in tune;
    My lord is not my lord, nor should I know him
    Were he in favor as in humor alter'd.
    So help me every spirit sanctified,
    As I have spoken for you all my best
    And stood within the blank of his displeasure
    For my free speech! You must awhile be patient.
    What I can do I will; and more I will
    Than for myself I dare. Let that suffice you.
  IAGO. Is my lord angry?
  EMILIA.                 He went hence but now,
    And certainly in strange unquietness.
  IAGO. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,
    When it hath blown his ranks into the air
    And, like the devil, from his very arm
    Puff'd his own brother. And can he be angry?
    Something of moment then. I will go meet him.
    There's matter in't indeed if he be angry.
  DESDEMONA. I prithee, do so.                             Exit
Iago.
                               Something sure of state,
    Either from Venice or some unhatch'd practice
    Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
    Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases
    Men's natures wrangle with inferior things,
    Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so;
    For let our finger ache, and it indues
    Our other healthful members even to that sense
    Of pain. Nay, we must think men are not gods,
    Nor of them look for such observancy
    As fits the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,
    I was, unhandsome warrior as I am,
    Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
    But now I find I had suborn'd the witness,
    And he's indicted falsely.
  EMILIA. Pray heaven it be state matters, as you think,
    And no conception nor no jealous toy
    Concerning you.
  DESDEMONA. Alas the day, I never gave him cause!
  EMILIA. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
    They are not ever jealous for the cause,
    But jealous for they are jealous. 'Tis a monster
    Begot upon itself, born on itself.
  DESDEMONA. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!
  EMILIA. Lady, amen.
  DESDEMONA. I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout.
    If I do find him fit, I'll move your suit,
    And seek to effect it to my uttermost.
  CASSIO. I humbly thank your ladyship.
                                         Exeunt Desdemona and
Emilia.

                            Enter Bianca.

  BIANCA. Save you, friend Cassio!
  CASSIO.                          What make you from home?
    How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
    I'faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.
  BIANCA. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
    What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?
    Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours,
    More tedious than the dial eight score times?
    O weary reckoning!
  CASSIO.              Pardon me, Bianca.
    I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
    But I shall in a more continuate time
    Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,
                                  Gives her Desdemona's
handkerchief.
    Take me this work out.
  BIANCA.                  O Cassio, whence came this?
    This is some token from a newer friend.
    To the felt absence now I feel a cause.
    Is't come to this? Well, well.
  CASSIO.                          Go to, woman!
    Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth,
    From whence you have them. You are jealous now
    That this is from some mistress, some remembrance.
    No, by my faith, Bianca.
  BIANCA.                    Why, whose is it?
  CASSIO. I know not, sweet. I found it in my chamber.
    I like the work well. Ere it be demanded--
    As like enough it will--I'ld have it copied.
    Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time.
  BIANCA. Leave you! wherefore?
  CASSIO. I do attend here on the general;
    And think it no addition, nor my wish,
    To have him see me woman'd.
  BIANCA.                       Why, I pray you?
  CASSIO. Not that I love you not.
  BIANCA.                          But that you do not love me.
    I pray you, bring me on the way a little,
    And say if I shall see you soon at night.
  CASSIO. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you,
    For I attend here, but I'll see you soon.
  BIANCA. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced.
Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Desdemona chats with the clown and asks him to bring a message to Cassio that he should come visit her. She wants the clown to make it clear that she's been good to her word about asking Othello for Cassio's reinstatement. She hopes all will be well. The clown exits, and Desdemona is left with Emilia. She asks Emilia where on earth her handkerchief could've gone. Obviously upset to have lost it, Desdemona says that if Othello were the kind of guy to be jealous--which, of course, he isn't--her loss of the handkerchief would make him suspicious. She claims Othello has no such jealousy because the sun of his native land sapped it up from him. As Othello approaches the two women, Desdemona declares that she won't leave Othello alone until he's agreed to see Cassio. Othello then enters the scene, clearly failing at his attempt to pretend that nothing's wrong. Othello asks Desdemona for her hand, and notes that it is moist, which was thought to be a sure mark of a lascivious person. Othello waxes on about Desdemona's hand; he says it's a hot hand, which means it should turn to prayer and fasting and other chaste pursuits so it doesn't fall victim to the passions. He then declares her hand is a frank one, which she interprets to mean generous . Othello continues to riff on her perverted sexuality, as "frank" also meant "lusty" or "unable to conceal secrets." Othello laments that in the old days, when one gave up their hand in marriage, they gave up their heart. This lengthy interlude is fun with wordplay, but it's also a scene that shows that Othello is suspicious but not yet furious at Desdemona, who will walk into her own damnation. To make matters worse, Desdemona changes the subject by reminding Othello that he promised to see Cassio . This, of course, only inflames Othello's suspicions. He declares that his eyes are watering strangely, and asks if perhaps Desdemona has her handkerchief about her. As Desdemona hands him a normal handkerchief, Othello asks her where her special handkerchief is. Desdemona simply says she doesn't have it with her, likely because she doesn't want to upset him by saying that it's lost. So instead, she inadvertently upsets him by seeming to confirm that her handkerchief is with her secret lover. Othello then tells her the story of the handkerchief. It's a family heirloom and totally sacred. A psychic informed his mom that, as long as she had the handkerchief, Othello's dad would love her. But, if she lost it or gave it away, Othello's dad would hate her and go back on the prowl. Othello's mom gave the handkerchief to her son on her deathbed, telling him to give it to the woman he'd have for his wife. Othello explains this is why he told Desdemona to take care of the handkerchief, as losing it would be bad. Naturally, this worries Desdemona. Othello asks point-blank if the handkerchief is lost. Desdemona hesitates, and then tells something of a lie. "It is not lost," she says . Okay, so maybe an outright lie. The discussion over the handkerchief escalates into a huge fight. Othello keeps demanding to see it and Desdemona keeps refusing and telling him that he needs to forgive Cassio . Eventually, Othello storms out, all for the want of a handkerchief. Desdemona is shocked. She's never seen this side of her husband, and she doesn't know what's going on. Emilia declares this is no big deal, since women are like food to men. Cassio and Iago choose this moment to show up, with Iago encouraging Cassio to make his case to Desdemona. She explains that now is not a great time for them to talk to Othello, since he's in bad spirits, and a little watery-eyed since he's lacking a handkerchief. Iago, all innocence, says that Othello's behavior sounds really strange, but being the good guy that he is, he'll try to find out what's wrong. Desdemona slowly convinces herself that she shouldn't be angry at Othello for his behavior. Surely, she reasons, there must be some cause for it beyond the handkerchief, and it's probably something to do with Othello's work in Venice or Cyprus. She decides that sometimes men, worried about big things, take it out on women, over little things. Desdemona declares that she is to blame for getting upset at Othello over nothing. Classic enabling. Emilia, who, by the way, is totally at fault, says she hopes that Othello is just upset over things related to work, because it sure seems like he's jealous. "Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind!" Desdemona prays , which means Shakespeare is repeating metaphors. Desdemona promises Cassio that she'll try again when Othello calms down, and she and Emilia exit, leaving Cassio alone in the scene. Then Bianca, Cassio's lover, comes in and yells at Cassio for not coming to see her often enough. Cassio apologizes and says he's had a lot on his mind. Cassio hands Bianca Desdemona's handkerchief, asking her to copy the pattern. Bianca gets all worried that Cassio has a new woman who's given him this as a token of affection, but Cassio explains that he found the handkerchief in his bedroom . Cassio thinks surely someone will ask for the lovely handkerchief back, in which case he'd like to have his own copy, so could Bianca please take a break from nagging him and start embroidering? Also go away as quickly as possible?! After all, the last thing he needs is for Othello to see him with his lover. He doesn't want his general to think he's less than serious about his job.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT IV. SCENE I.
Cyprus. Before the castle.

Enter Othello and Iago.

  IAGO. Will you think so?
  OTHELLO.                 Think so, Iago?
  IAGO.                                    What,
    To kiss in private?
  OTHELLO.              An unauthorized kiss.
  IAGO. Or to be naked with her friend in bed
    An hour or more, not meaning any harm?
  OTHELLO. Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm!
    It is hypocrisy against the devil.
    They that mean virtuously and yet do so,
    The devil their virtue tempts and they tempt heaven.
  IAGO. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip.
    But if I give my wife a handkerchief--
  OTHELLO. What then?
  IAGO. Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord, and being hers,
    She may, I think, bestow't on any man.
  OTHELLO. She is protectress of her honor too.
    May she give that?
  IAGO. Her honor is an essence that's not seen;
    They have it very oft that have it not.
    But for the handkerchief--
  OTHELLO. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.
    Thou said'st--O, it comes o'er my memory,
    As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
    Boding to all--he had my handkerchief.
  IAGO. Ay, what of that?
  OTHELLO.                That's not so good now.
  IAGO.                                           What,
    If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?
    Or heard him say--as knaves be such abroad,
    Who having, by their own importunate suit,
    Or voluntary dotage of some mistress,
    Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose
    But they must blab--
  OTHELLO.              Hath he said anything?
  IAGO. He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,
    No more than he'll unswear.
  OTHELLO.                      What hath he said?
  IAGO. Faith, that he did--I know not what he did.
  OTHELLO. What? what?
  IAGO. Lie--
  OTHELLO. With her?
  IAGO.              With her, on her, what you will.
  OTHELLO. Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when they
    belie her. Lie with her! 'Zounds, that's fulsome!
Handkerchief--
    confessions--handkerchief! To confess and be hanged for his
labor--
    first, to be hanged, and then to confess. I tremble at it.
    Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion
without
    some instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus. Pish!
    Noses, ears, and lips. Is't possible? Confess? Handkerchief?
O
    devil!
                                                   Falls in a
trance.
  IAGO. Work on,
    My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught,
    And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,
    All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! My lord!
    My lord, I say! Othello!

                            Enter Cassio.

                             How now, Cassio!
  CASSIO. What's the matter?
  IAGO. My lord is fall'n into an epilepsy.
    This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
  CASSIO. Rub him about the temples.
  IAGO.                              No, forbear;
    The lethargy must have his quiet course.
    If not, he foams at mouth, and by and by
    Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs.
    Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
    He will recover straight. When he is gone,
    I would on great occasion speak with you.            Exit
Cassio.
    How is it, general? Have you not hurt your head?
  OTHELLO. Dost thou mock me?
  IAGO.                       I mock you? No, by heaven.
    Would you would bear your fortune like a man!
  OTHELLO. A horned man's a monster and a beast.
  IAGO. There's many a beast then in a populous city,
    And many a civil monster.
  OTHELLO. Did he confess it?
  IAGO.                       Good sir, be a man;
    Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked
    May draw with you. There's millions now alive
    That nightly lie in those unproper beds
    Which they dare swear peculiar. Your case is better.
    O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
    To lip a wanton in a secure couch,
    And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know,
    And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
  OTHELLO. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
  IAGO.                                    Stand you awhile
apart,
    Confine yourself but in a patient list.
    Whilst you were here o'erwhelmed with your grief--
    A passion most unsuiting such a man--
    Cassio came hither. I shifted him away,
    And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy;
    Bade him anon return and here speak with me
    The which he promised. Do but encave yourself
    And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
    That dwell in every region of his face;
    For I will make him tell the tale anew,
    Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
    He hath and is again to cope your wife.
    I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience,
    Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,
    And nothing of a man.
  OTHELLO.                Dost thou hear, Iago?
    I will be found most cunning in my patience;
    But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.
  IAGO.                                That's not amiss;
    But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
                                                     Othello
retires.
    Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
    A housewife that by selling her desires
    Buys herself bread and clothes. It is a creature
    That dotes on Cassio, as 'tis the strumpet's plague
    To beguile many and be beguiled by one.
    He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
    From the excess of laughter. Here he comes.

                           Re-enter Cassio.

    As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
    And his unbookish jealousy must construe
    Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behavior
    Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?
  CASSIO. The worser that you give me the addition
    Whose want even kills me.
  IAGO. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't.
    Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power,
    How quickly should you speed!
  CASSIO.                         Alas, poor caitiff!
  OTHELLO. Look, how he laughs already!
  IAGO. I never knew a woman love man so.
  CASSIO. Alas, poor rogue! I think, i'faith, she loves me.
  OTHELLO. Now he denies it faintly and laughs it out.
  IAGO. Do you hear, Cassio?
  OTHELLO.                   Now he importunes him
    To tell it o'er. Go to; well said, well said.
  IAGO. She gives it out that you shall marry her.
    Do you intend it?
  CASSIO. Ha, ha, ha!
  OTHELLO. Do you triumph, Roman? Do you triumph?
  CASSIO. I marry her! What? A customer! I prithee, bear some
charity
    to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha!
  OTHELLO. So, so, so, so. They laugh that win.
  IAGO. Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.
  CASSIO. Prithee, say true.
  IAGO. I am a very villain else.
  OTHELLO. Have you scored me? Well.
  CASSIO. This is the monkey's own giving out. She is persuaded I
    will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of
my
    promise.
  OTHELLO. Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.
  CASSIO. She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I
was
    the other day talking on the sea bank with certain Venetians,
and
    thither comes the bauble, and, by this hand, she falls me
thus
    about my neck--
  OTHELLO. Crying, "O dear Cassio!" as it were; his gesture
imports
    it.
  CASSIO. So hangs and lolls and weeps upon me; so hales and
pulls
    me. Ha, ha, ha!
  OTHELLO. Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O, I
see
    that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to.
  CASSIO. Well, I must leave her company.
  IAGO. Before me! look where she comes.
  CASSIO. 'Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfumed one.

                            Enter Bianca.

    What do you mean by this haunting of me?
  BIANCA. Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean
by
    that same handkerchief you gave me even now? I was a fine
fool to
    take it. I must take out the work? A likely piece of work
that
    you should find it in your chamber and not know who left it
    there! This is some minx's token, and I must take out the
work?
    There, give it your hobbyhorse. Wheresoever you had it, I'll
take
    out no work on't.
  CASSIO. How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!
  OTHELLO. By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!
  BIANCA. An you'll come to supper tonight, you may; an you will
not,
    come when you are next prepared for.
Exit.
  IAGO. After her, after her.
  CASSIO. Faith, I must; she'll rail i' the street else.
  IAGO. Will you sup there?
  CASSIO. Faith, I intend so.
  IAGO. Well, I may chance to see you, for I would very fain
speak
    with you.
  CASSIO. Prithee, come; will you?
  IAGO. Go to; say no more.                              Exit
Cassio.
  OTHELLO. [Advancing.] How shall I murther him, Iago?
  IAGO. Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
  OTHELLO. O Iago!
  IAGO. And did you see the handkerchief?
  OTHELLO. Was that mine?
  IAGO. Yours, by this hand. And to see how he prizes the foolish
    woman your wife! She gave it him, and he hath given it his
whore.
  OTHELLO. I would have him nine years akilling. A fine woman! a
fair
    woman! a sweet woman!
  IAGO. Nay, you must forget that.
  OTHELLO. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned tonight,
for
    she shall not live. No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike
it,
    and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter
creature.
    She might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks.
  IAGO. Nay, that's not your way.
  OTHELLO. Hang her! I do but say what she is. So delicate with
her
    needle, an admirable musician. O, she will sing the
savageness
    out of a bear. Of so high and plenteous wit and invention--
  IAGO. She's the worse for all this.
  OTHELLO. O, a thousand, a thousand times. And then, of so
gentle a
    condition!
  IAGO. Ay, too gentle.
  OTHELLO. Nay, that's certain. But yet the pity of it, Iago!
    O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
  IAGO. If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to
    offend, for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
  OTHELLO. I will chop her into messes. Cuckold me!
  IAGO. O, 'tis foul in her.
  OTHELLO. With mine officer!
  IAGO. That's fouler.
  OTHELLO. Get me some poison, Iago, this night. I'll not
expostulate
    with her, lest her body and beauty unprovide my mind again.
This
    night, Iago.
  IAGO. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the
bed
    she hath contaminated.
  OTHELLO. Good, good, the justice of it pleases, very good.
  IAGO. And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker. You shall hear
more
    by midnight.
  OTHELLO. Excellent good. [A trumpet within.] What trumpet is
that
    same?
  IAGO. Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico
    Come from the Duke. And, see your wife is with him.

              Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants.

  LODOVICO. God save the worthy general!
  OTHELLO.                               With all my heart, sir.
  LODOVICO. The Duke and Senators of Venice greet you.
                                                  Gives him a
letter.
  OTHELLO. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.
                                         Opens the letter, and
reads.
  DESDEMONA. And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?
  IAGO. I am very glad to see you, signior;
    Welcome to Cyprus.
  LODOVICO. I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?
  IAGO. Lives, sir.
  DESDEMONA. Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my lord
    An unkind breach; but you shall make all well.
  OTHELLO. Are you sure of that?
  DESDEMONA. My lord?
  OTHELLO. [Reads.] "This fail you not to do, as you will--"
  LODOVICO. He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
    Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio?
  DESDEMONA. A most unhappy one. I would do much
    To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.
  OTHELLO. Fire and brimstone!
  DESDEMONA. My lord?
  OTHELLO. Are you wise?
  DESDEMONA. What, is he angry?
  LODOVICO.                     May be the letter moved him;
    For, as I think, they do command him home,
    Deputing Cassio in his government.
  DESDEMONA. By my troth, I am glad on't.
  OTHELLO.                                Indeed!
  DESDEMONA.                                      My lord?
  OTHELLO. I am glad to see you mad.
  DESDEMONA.                         Why, sweet Othello?
  OTHELLO. Devil!                                        Strikes
her.
  DESDEMONA. I have not deserved this.
  LODOVICO. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,
    Though I should swear I saw't. 'Tis very much.
    Make her amends; she weeps.
  OTHELLO.                      O devil, devil!
    If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
    Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
    Out of my sight!
  DESDEMONA. [Going.] I will not stay to offend you.
  LODOVICO. Truly, an obedient lady.
    I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
  OTHELLO. Mistress!
  DESDEMONA. My lord?
  OTHELLO. What would you with her, sir?
  LODOVICO.                              Who, I, my lord?
  OTHELLO. Ay, you did wish that I would make her turn.
    Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on,
    And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
    And she's obedient, as you say, obedient,
    Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.
    Concerning this, sir--O well-painted passion!--
    I am commanded home. Get you away;
    I'll send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate,
    And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!
                                                      Exit
Desdemona.
    Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,
    I do entreat that we may sup together.
    You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkeys!
     Exit.
  LODOVICO. Is this the noble Moor whom our full Senate
    Call all in all sufficient? This the nature
    Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
    The shot of accident nor dart of chance
    Could neither graze nor pierce?
  IAGO.                             He is much changed.
  LODOVICO. Are his wits safe? Is he not light of brain?
  IAGO. He's that he is. I may not breathe my censure
    What he might be: if what he might he is not,
    I would to heaven he were!
  LODOVICO.                    What, strike his wife!
  IAGO. Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew
    That stroke would prove the worst!
  LODOVICO.                            Is it his use?
    Or did the letters work upon his blood,
    And new create this fault?
  IAGO.                        Alas, alas!
    It is not honesty in me to speak
    What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,
    And his own courses will denote him so
    That I may save my speech. Do but go after,
    And mark how he continues.
  LODOVICO. I am sorry that I am deceived in him.
Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Enter Iago and Othello. Iago is playing mind games with Othello as usual, forcing him to imagine Desdemona and Cassio in bed together. Iago then brings up the lost handkerchief, saying if he'd given it to a woman, it would be her possession, and she'd be free to give it to anyone she pleased. Othello then asks whether her honor could be given as freely, too. He had forgotten about the handkerchief until Iago graciously reminded him. Iago wheedles a bit more, now making the outright lie that Cassio claims to have slept with Desdemona...or something. Iago isn't totally clear if Cassio said "lie with her" or "lie on her," which is a pretty big difference. Either he slept with her or told a lie about her. Nice. Of course Othello takes the meaning Iago wants him to take. Othello gets so upset he starts mumbling and falls into a trance. As Iago gloats over the effects of his wicked work, Cassio comes in and wonders what's going on with Othello. Iago explains that he's just having a fit--totally normal--in fact, the second one since yesterday. Cassio suggests that perhaps they should try to tend to Othello, but Iago thinks it best to let the man suffer. He tells Cassio to leave them for a minute and come back when Othello has left, so they can have a friendly chat. Othello slowly comes out of his fit. Iago asks if his head still hurts, and Othello, still in a passion, interprets this to mean Iago is thinking any man's head would hurt if it were burdened by cuckold's horns. Iago "comforts" Othello by saying lots of men are deceived by their women; it's like a club of whipped brothers. Othello then declares Iago to be very wise. All is lost. Iago tells Othello to hide a little ways away so that he can overhear a conversation between Iago and Cassio, one where Cassio will clearly incriminate himself by talking loosely about Desdemona. Othello thinks this is a wonderful idea, and says he'll listen with patient and bloody thoughts. Iago then announces his plan : he'll talk in veiled terms to Cassio about Bianca , whom Cassio takes very lightly. Othello, hearing the conversation, is bound to think Cassio is making light of his wife, Desdemona. Iago underhandedly will have given Othello the shadow of proof. Mwah-hah-hah, yet again. When Cassio comes back, Iago brings up Bianca, in all her pathetic ardor. Cassio, of course, laughs about how much the woman loves him, how desperate she is, and how easily beguiled she has been by his false intentions of marriage. It must be Iago's lucky day, because Bianca herself comes in and throws Desdemona's handkerchief in Cassio's face. Cassio calls her a "fitchew," which is a polecat, known for being lusty and smelly. Bianca is furious that Cassio has given her something that obviously came from another woman, a woman who is indeed a "hobby-horse" . Bianca walks out in a huff and Cassio follows her. Othello is completely convinced by this little scene, and furious that Desdemona would give Cassio their special handkerchief, especially since his mother's dying bequest ended up in the hands of a common prostitute. He rages for a bit, and finally gets to talk of action. Othello first threatens to chop Desdemona up into little bits. Then, he asks Iago to get him some poison, so he might kill her that very night. He won't chat with her about her offenses, as he's sure she'd be able to talk him out of her murder. Othello thinks this murder plan is most just. Iago reveals he still intends to take out Cassio. He assures Othello he'll report back before midnight. The conversation is interrupted by Lodovico, kinsman of Brabantio . Lodovico brings news from the Duke in Venice: Othello has been called back to the city, and Cassio is to replace him as command in Cyprus. While Othello reads the letter from the Duke, Lodovico talks with Desdemona and asks her how Cassio is doing. Desdemona explains how Cassio and Othello had a falling out, and declares she hopes they can work it out "for the love I bear to Cassio" , which is not a good move given the fact that Othello was just thinking about Cassio having sex with his wife. Othello, overhearing Desdemona's loving comments toward Cassio, gets enraged and hits Desdemona. Desdemona can't figure out why her husband would strike her--and in public no less--when she's done nothing to deserve it. Lodovico insists Othello make amends with the poor girl, as she's weeping. Othello says she can cry crocodile tears and he won't care, as she changes faces so easily. Othello then declares he'll head back to Venice, and Cassio shall have his post . Desdemona leaves, shell-shocked, and Othello stalks out, muttering "goats and monkeys!" . Lodovico is shocked that Othello would injure his wife and behave so boorishly in public. He wonders whether Othello has been put into a passion by the Duke's letters, but Iago suggests this poor form is Othello's status quo. Iago demurs on giving details about Othello's failings, saying, with seeming humility, that it's not up to him to reveal the evils he's seen. This leaves Lodovico free to imagine worse evils.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.
A room in the castle.

Enter Othello and Emilia.

  OTHELLO. You have seen nothing, then?
  EMILIA. Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
  OTHELLO. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
  EMILIA. But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
    Each syllable that breath made up between them.
  OTHELLO. What, did they never whisper?
  EMILIA.                                Never, my lord.
  OTHELLO. Nor send you out o' the way?
  EMILIA. Never.
  OTHELLO. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
  EMILIA. Never, my lord.
  OTHELLO. That's strange.
  EMILIA. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
    Lay down my soul at stake. If you think other,
    Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.
    If any wretch have put this in your head,
    Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse!
    For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
    There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
    Is foul as slander.
  OTHELLO.              Bid her come hither; go.         Exit
Emilia.
    She says enough; yet she's a simple bawd
    That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
    A closet lock and key of villainous secrets.
    And yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't.

                     Enter Desdemona with Emilia.

  DESDEMONA. My lord, what is your will?
  OTHELLO.                               Pray, chuck, come
hither.
  DESDEMONA. What is your pleasure?
  OTHELLO.                          Let me see your eyes;
    Look in my face.
  DESDEMONA.         What horrible fancy's this?
  OTHELLO. [To Emilia.] Some of your function, mistress,
    Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
    Cough, or cry "hem," if anybody come.
    Your mystery, your mystery; nay, dispatch.           Exit
Emilia.
  DESDEMONA. Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
    I understand a fury in your words,
    But not the words.
  OTHELLO. Why, what art thou?
  DESDEMONA. Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.
  OTHELLO. Come, swear it, damn thyself;
    Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
    Should fear to seize thee. Therefore be double-damn'd;
    Swear thou art honest.
  DESDEMONA.               Heaven doth truly know it.
  OTHELLO. Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
  DESDEMONA. To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
  OTHELLO. O Desdemona! Away! away! away!
  DESDEMONA. Alas the heavy day! Why do you weep?
    Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?
    If haply you my father do suspect
    An instrument of this your calling back,
    Lay not your blame on me. If you have lost him,
    Why, I have lost him too.
  OTHELLO.                    Had it pleased heaven
    To try me with affliction, had they rain'd
    All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head,
    Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
    Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
    I should have found in some place of my soul
    A drop of patience; but, alas, to make me
    A fixed figure for the time for scorn
    To point his slow unmoving finger at!
    Yet could I bear that too, well, very well;
    But there, where I have garner'd up my heart,
    Where either I must live or bear no life;
    The fountain from the which my current runs,
    Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
    Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
    To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,
    Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin,
    Ay, there, look grim as hell!
  DESDEMONA. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
  OTHELLO. O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles,
    That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
    Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet
    That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er been
born!
  DESDEMONA. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
  OTHELLO. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
    Made to write "whore" upon? What committed?
    Committed? O thou public commoner!
    I should make very forges of my cheeks,
    That would to cinders burn up modesty,
    Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
    Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
    The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
    Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
    And will not hear it. What committed?
    Impudent strumpet!
  DESDEMONA.           By heaven, you do me wrong.
  OTHELLO. Are not you a strumpet?
  DESDEMONA.                       No, as I am a Christian.
    If to preserve this vessel for my lord
    From any other foul unlawful touch
    Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
  OTHELLO. What, not a whore?
  DESDEMONA.                  No, as I shall be saved.
  OTHELLO. Is't possible?
  DESDEMONA. O, heaven forgive us!
  OTHELLO.                         I cry you mercy then;
    I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
    That married with Othello. [Raises his voice.] You, mistress,
    That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
    And keep the gate of hell!

                           Re-enter Emilia.

                               You, you, ay, you!
    We have done our course; there's money for your pains.
    I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel.
Exit.
  EMILIA. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
    How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady?
  DESDEMONA. Faith, half asleep.
  EMILIA. Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
  DESDEMONA. With who?
  EMILIA. Why, with my lord, madam.
  DESDEMONA. Who is thy lord?
  EMILIA.                     He that is yours, sweet lady.
  DESDEMONA. I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia;
    I cannot weep, nor answer have I none
    But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight
    Lay on my bed my wedding sheets. Remember,
    And call thy husband hither.
  EMILIA.                        Here's a change indeed!
     Exit.
  DESDEMONA. 'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.
    How have I been behaved, that he might stick
    The small'st opinion on my least misuse?

                      Re-enter Emilia with Iago.

  IAGO. What is your pleasure, madam? How is't with you?
  DESDEMONA. I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes
    Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
    He might have chid me so, for in good faith,
    I am a child to chiding.
  IAGO.                      What's the matter, lady?
  EMILIA. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her,
    Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
    As true hearts cannot bear.
  DESDEMONA. Am I that name, Iago?
  IAGO.                            What name, fair lady?
  DESDEMONA. Such as she says my lord did say I was.
  EMILIA. He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink
    Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
  IAGO. Why did he so?
  DESDEMONA. I do not know; I am sure I am none such.
  IAGO. Do not weep, do not weep. Alas the day!
  EMILIA. Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
    Her father and her country and her friends,
    To be call'd whore? Would it not make one weep?
  DESDEMONA. It is my wretched fortune.
  IAGO.                                 Beshrew him for't!
    How comes this trick upon him?
  DESDEMONA.                       Nay, heaven doth know.
  EMILIA. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
    Some busy and insinuating rogue,
    Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
    Have not devised this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
  IAGO. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
  DESDEMONA. If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
  EMILIA. A halter pardon him! And hell gnaw his bones!
    Why should he call her whore? Who keeps her company?
    What place? What time? What form? What likelihood?
    The Moor's abused by some most villainous knave,
    Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
    O heaven, that such companions thou'ldst unfold,
    And put in every honest hand a whip
    To lash the rascals naked through the world
    Even from the east to the west!
  IAGO.                             Speak within door.
  EMILIA. O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was
    That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
    And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
  IAGO. You are a fool; go to.
  DESDEMONA.                   O good Iago,
    What shall I do to win my lord again?
    Good friend, go to him, for by this light of heaven,
    I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:
    If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love
    Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,
    Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
    Delighted them in any other form,
    Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
    And ever will, though he do shake me off
    To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly,
    Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much,
    And his unkindness may defeat my life,
    But never taint my love. I cannot say "whore."
    It doth abhor me now I speak the word;
    To do the act that might the addition earn
    Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
  IAGO. I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humor:
    The business of the state does him offense,
    And he does chide with you.
  DESDEMONA. If 'twere no other--
  IAGO. 'Tis but so, I warrant.                      Trumpets
within.
    Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!
    The messengers of Venice stay the meat.
    Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
                                         Exeunt Desdemona and
Emilia.

                           Enter Roderigo.

    How now, Roderigo!
  RODERIGO. I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
  IAGO. What in the contrary?
  RODERIGO. Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago; and
    rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all
conveniency
    than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will
indeed
    no longer endure it; nor am I yet persuaded to put up in
peace
    what already I have foolishly suffered.
  IAGO. Will you hear me, Roderigo?
  RODERIGO. Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and
    performances are no kin together.
  IAGO. You charge me most unjustly.
  RODERIGO. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my
    means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver to
Desdemona
    would half have corrupted a votarist. You have told me she
hath
    received them and returned me expectations and comforts of
sudden
    respect and acquaintance; but I find none.
  IAGO. Well, go to, very well.
  RODERIGO. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not
very
    well. By this hand, I say 'tis very scurvy, and begin to find
    myself fopped in it.
  IAGO. Very well.
  RODERIGO. I tell you 'tis not very well. I will make myself
known
    to Desdemona. If she will return me my jewels, I will give
over
    my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure
    yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.
  IAGO. You have said now.
  RODERIGO. Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of
    doing.
  IAGO. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even from this

    instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before.
Give
    me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just
    exception; but yet, I protest, I have dealt most directly in
thy
    affair.
  RODERIGO. It hath not appeared.
  IAGO. I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your suspicion
is
    not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast
that
    in thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now
than
    ever, I mean purpose, courage, and valor, this night show it;
if
    thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me
from
    this world with treachery and devise engines for my life.
  RODERIGO. Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass?
  IAGO. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to
depute
    Cassio in Othello's place.
  RODERIGO. Is that true? Why then Othello and Desdemona return
again
    to Venice.
  IAGO. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him
the
    fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some
    accident; wherein none can be so determinate as the removing
of
    Cassio.
  RODERIGO. How do you mean, removing of him?
  IAGO. Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place; knocking
out
    his brains.
  RODERIGO. And that you would have me to do?
  IAGO. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups
    tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He
knows
    not yet of his honorable fortune. If you will watch his going
    thence, which his will fashion to fall out between twelve and
    one, you may take him at your pleasure; I will be near to
second
    your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not
    amazed at it, but go along with me; I will show you such a
    necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to
put
    it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to
    waste. About it.
  RODERIGO. I will hear further reason for this.
  IAGO. And you shall be satisfied.
Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: We open with Othello grilling Emilia, trying to get her to confess that Desdemona and Cassio are having an affair. Emilia tells him that he's crazy--she has observed Cassio and Desdemona every minute they were together, and nothing remotely suspicious has happened. She's sure that Desdemona is honest, if ever there were an honest woman. Emilia insists that only some wretch could have put this thought into his head. Othello then sends Emilia to get Desdemona, dismissing her claims as the simple testimony of a simple woman. Othello has convinced himself that Desdemona is cunning in her harlotry, and it's no surprise she wouldn't be found out, even by her woman friend. Apprehensively, Desdemona enters. Othello flies into a passion, falling into tears. He accuses Desdemona of being false , but Desdemona denies it and tries to argue otherwise. She then suggests that Othello's rage might be inspired by the letter he received earlier today calling him back to Venice. Desdemona wonders if perhaps Othello thinks the summons to leave Cyprus were the machinations of her angry father back in Venice. Still, she says if her father had a hand in this, she's not to blame, as she remains staunchly on Othello's side. Still, Othello mourns his mystery loss; he says he could bear any amount of suffering from the world, and proceeds to detail any and all types, including sores, poverty, slavery, and a world of scorn. With any of these, he says, he could have patience--but he cannot bear this abuse of his heart. Desdemona begs him to tell her what she has done wrong, and Othello calls her a whore and a strumpet. Desdemona swears on her soul that she has never touched anybody but him, but he doesn't believe her. Emilia walks in on this little exchange, so Othello takes to abusing her, too. He praises her for being the gatekeeper to Hell, and tells her that she'd do best to keep the events of this night to herself. Othello then exits, and the ladies are left with raised eyebrows. Emilia questions Desdemona worriedly about Othello's behavior, wondering what's happened to her "lord." She then declares that she has no lord, nor does she have tears to cry, and no answer is appropriate about what is going on with Othello except an answer that could be told in tears. Desdemona bids Emilia to lay her wedding sheets on the quarreling lovers' bed tonight, and asks to have Iago come and talk to her. Alone, she resents bearing all this abuse, mostly because she's done nothing wrong. Emilia returns with Iago. Desdemona says she can't even begin to comprehend the things Othello has said to her. She was brought up so gently that she can't make sense of his abuse. Thankfully, Emilia witnessed the whole thing and is happy to dish. She says Othello called Desdemona a whore and all sorts of other cruel names--things worse than a drunk beggar would have said to a prostitute. Iago pretends not to know why Othello would behave this way and begs Desdemona not to weep. Next, Emilia reminds Desdemona that she turned down all sorts of nice, rich Venetian boys, even her father, and her friends, and her country...all to marry Othello. She also suggests that it could only be some really vile person, seeking his own self interest, that plied Othello with lies about Desdemona's faithfulness in order to make him jealous. She prattles on about this for a while, and Iago tells her to speak quietly, but Emilia notes that it was a very similar scheme, lies from a lying liar, that made Iago believe Othello had been with her too. Iago tells Emilia to shut up already. Desdemona begs Iago to tell her what to do, or go talk to Othello on her behalf, to cure him of his wrong-mindedness. She can't believe this is happening to her--as she truly loves Othello. She can't even imagine going behind his back to be with somebody else. Iago tells Desdemona not to worry--Othello is probably just upset about state business. He points out that the messengers from Venice are waiting to eat with the women, which is clearly more important than Othello's inexplicable and murderous rage. Iago promises "things shall be well" , and Desdemona and Emilia leave Iago alone. Roderigo comes in to yell at Iago for not yet setting him up with Desdemona but still spending all of his money. Roderigo's finally starting to wise up to the fact that Iago is just using him for his cash, and in fact never really cared about him. Roderigo, who seems rather broke at the moment, wants to know what happened to all the expensive jewelry he gave Iago to give to Desdemona. Iago kept promising that Desdemona was getting the gifts and wanted to give something up in return, but he has yet to see any special favors of Othello's wife. Roderigo then throws down the gauntlet--he declares that he'll go and see Desdemona himself. If she returns his jewels, he'll repent ever having tried to court a married woman. But if she has no jewels to return, then Roderigo will take it out on Iago. Iago, hearing Roderigo threaten him, declares him a much better man than he'd ever taken him for. Iago insists he's actually been working on the situation and that Roderigo will be all up in Desdemona's jewels come tomorrow night. All Roderigo has to do is listen to Iago's plan. Iago informs Roderigo that Othello's been called back to Venice, and Cassio is to replace him in Cyprus. Iago also casts random lies, claiming Othello is headed to Mauritania with Desdemona. If Roderigo were to get rid of Cassio, then Othello couldn't leave Cyprus. Anyway, Iago quite expertly calms Roderigo down and convinces him that he needs to kill Cassio that very night, probably while Cassio is having dinner with his harlot who, it seems, forgave him for the whole handkerchief thing. Iago promises he'll be right behind him to help with the murdering. Iago declares all of this should go down sometime between midnight and one in the morning. Iago is clear: murdering Cassio is the only way to get to Desdemona. Roderigo, ever a wit, points out that this plan really doesn't make any sense. Somehow Roderigo is appeased when Iago promises he'll explain it all later.