I have it not about me.
Not?
No, indeed, my lord.
That is 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 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.
Is't possible?
'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 skilful
Conserved of maidens' hearts.
Indeed! is't true?
Most veritable; therefore look to't well.
Then would to God that I had never seen't!
Ha! wherefore?
Why do you speak so startingly and rash?
Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out
o' the way?
Heaven bless us!
Say you?
It is not lost; but what an if it were?
How!
I say, it is not lost.
Fetch't, let me see't.
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.
Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives.
Come, come;
You'll never meet a more sufficient man.
The handkerchief!
I pray, talk me of Cassio.
The handkerchief!
A man that all his time
Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,
Shared dangers with you,--
The handkerchief!
In sooth, you are to blame.
Away!
Is not this man jealous?
I ne'er saw this before.
Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief:
I am most unhappy in the loss of it.
'Tis not a year or two shows us a man:
They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;
To eat us hungerly, and when they are full,
They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!
There is no other way; 'tis she must do't:
And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.
How now, good Cassio! what's the