(A street before the palace.)
(Cassio re-enters and meets Bianca.)
Bianca.
Good day, friend Cassio.
Cassio.
What brings you here? How are you, my fairest
Bianca? Indeed, my dear, I was about
to speak to you.
Bianca. And I was about to pay you a visit in your quarters, Cassio. What? A whole week away? Seven days and nights? One hundred and sixty-eight hours? And a lover’s hours of absence, which are one hundred and sixty times more tedious than the clock hand. Oh! A dismal calculation!
Cassio. Forgive me, Bianca; I have been oppressed by leaden thoughts all this time; but in a happier time I shall know how to pay off this long account of absence. Dearest Bianca, mark this rift for me—
(He gives her Desdemon’s handkerchief.)
Bianca.
O Cassio, where did you get this? It was a token of
love from some recent friend. Now I perceive the
cause of your absence, which was so painful to me. Has it
come to this? Well, well!
Cassio. Go, girl, and throw your ugly conjectures into the devil’s teeth, from whom you got them. So you imagine this is a souvenir from a sweetheart? No, Bianca, in all seriousness.
Bianca.
What, whose is it then?
Cassio. I don’t know myself; I found it in my room. I like working on it immensely, and before it’s requested again (which probably will be), I’d like to have a sketch of it. Take it, my dear, and copy it, and leave me alone for now.
Bianca.
Leave you alone? Why?
Cassio. I’m waiting here for the general, and I don’t think it would do me much good if he saw me married.
Bianca.
How should I understand that?
Cassio.
Not that I don’t love you.
Bianca. It’s just that you don’t love me. I beg you, make that a little clearer to me and tell me if I shouldn’t see you tonight.
Cassio.
At least I want to see you as soon as I can.
Bianca.
Well then, I’ll just have to take a chance.
(They leave.)
Fourth act.
