Oth. I am glad to see you mad. Des.

Oth. Devil! Des.

Indeed?

My lord?

How, sweet Othello?
[Striking her.
I have not deserv'd this.
Lod. My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,
Though I should swear I saw it: 'Tis very much;
Make her amends, she weeps.

Oth.
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!

Des. I will not stay to offend you.
Lod. Truly, an obedient lady :-

I do beseech your lordship, call her back.
Oth. Mistress

Des.

Oth.

My lord?

[Going.

What would you with her, sir. Lod. Who I, my lora' Oth. 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! [Erit DESDEMONA. Cassio shall have my place. And.—sir, to night, I do entreat that we may sup together. You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkies!

[Erit.

Lod. Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate Call-all-in-all sufficient?-This the noble nature Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue The shot of accident, nor dart of chance, Could neither graze nor pierce? lago. He is much chang'd. Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain? Lugo. He is that he is; I may not breathe my cen

Oth. Nor send you out o'the way? Emil.

Never.

Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor
Emil. Never, my lord.
[nothing?
Oth.
That's strange.

Emil. 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 hath 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.

Oth. Bid her come hither:-go.— [Erit EMIL
She says enough; yet she's a simple bawd,
T'hat cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet-lock-and-key of villanous secrets :
And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I have seen her do't
Re-enter EMILIA, with DESDEMONA.
Des. My lord, what is your will?

Oth.
Des. What is your pleasure?
Oth.

Pray, chuck, come hither.

Let me see your eyes;

Look in my face.
Des.
Oth. Some of your function, mistress; [To EMIL
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door;
Cough, or cry-hem, if any body come :
Your mystery, your mystery ;—nay, despatch.
[Exit EMILIA
Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im-
I understand a fury in your words,
[port?
But not the words.

What horrible fancy's this?

Oth. Why, what art thou? Des. And loyal wife.

Oth.

Your wife, my lord; your true

Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be doubleSwear-thou art honest. (damn'd, Des. Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell. [false? Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am } Oth. O Desdemona !-away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep? Am I the occasion 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.

Oth.

Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction; had he 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 part of my soul
A drop of patience but (alas!) to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,--

O! O!

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!

Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest.

Oth. 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!

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book Made to write whore upon? What committed! Committed!-0 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! Des.

By heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. Are you not a strumpet? Des.

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.
Oth. What, not a whore?
Des.

Oth. Is it possible?

No, as I shall be saved.

Des. O, heaven forgive us! Oth. I cry you mercy, then: I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, That married with Othello.-You, mistress,

Re-enter EMILIA.

That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell; 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.
Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?-
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
Des. 'Faith, half asleep.

Emil. Good madam, what's the matter with my lord?
Des. With who?
Emil.

Why, with my lord, madam.

Des. Who is thy lord? Emil.

He that is yours, sweet lady. Des. I have none: Do not talk to me Emilia; 1 cannot weep; nor answer I have none, But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to-night Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,-remember;And call thy husband hither.

Emil. Here is a change, indeed! [Erit. Des. 'Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet. How have I been behav'd, that he might stick The small'st opinion on my great'st abuse?

Re-enter EMILIA, with IAGO.

Lugo. What is your pleasure, madam? How is it

with you?

Des. I cannot tell. Those, that do teach young Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks: [babes, He might have chid me so; for, in good faith, 1 am a child to chiding. lago. What's the matter, lady? Emil. Alas, lago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, As true hearts cannot bear.

Des. Am I that name, Iago? lago

What name, fair lady? Des. Such as, she says, my lord did say I was. Emil. He call'd her, whore; a beggar, in his drink, Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. Iago. Why did he so?

Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none such.

How comes this trick upon him?
Des.
Nay, heaven doth know.
Emil. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,

bones!

Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd, else.
lago. Fye, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
Emil. A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his
[pany?
Why should he call her, whore? who keeps her com-
What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor's abus'd by some most villanous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow:-
O, heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold.
And put in every honest hand a whip,

To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Even from the east to the west!

Iago.
Speak within door.
Emil O, fye upon him! some such squire he was,
That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
Lago. You are a fool; go to.

Des.

O good lago, 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 or 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 does 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. lago. I pray you, be content; 'tis tut his humour, The business of the state does him offence, And he does chide with you.

Des.

If 'twere no other,Iago. It is but so, I warrant you. [Trumpets. Hark, how these instruments summon to supper! And the great messengers of Venice stay: Go in, and weep not: all things shall be well. [Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA. Enter RODERIGO.

How now, Roderigo?

Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with me. Iago. What in the contrary?

Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now,) keep'st 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.

lago. Will you hear me, Roderigo?

Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words, and performances, are no kin together.

lago. You charge me most unjustly.

Rod. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from

Rod. Ay, and I have said nothing, but what I protest intendment of doing.

lago. 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.

Rod. It hath not appeared.

lago. I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,-I mean, purpose, courage, and valour,—this night shew it if thou the next night following enjoyest not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.

Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason, and compass?

Tago. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdenona return again to Venice.

lago. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be fingered here by some accident; wherein none can be so determinate, as the removing of Cassio.

Rod. How do you mean-removing of him? Jugo. Why, by making him uncapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me do?

lago. Ay; if you dare do yourself a profit, and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him ;-he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence, (which I 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 Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put It is now high supper time, and the night grows to

us.

waste about it.

Rod. I will hear further reason for this. Iago. And you shall be satisfied.

it on him.

[Exeunt.

ladyship.

Des. Your honour is most welcome.

Will you walk, sir?—

My lord?

Des. I will, my lord.

[did.

Dismiss me!

Emil.

Come, come, you talk.

I.

Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
[Singing.
Sing all a green willow;

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:

The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her
Sing willow, &c.
[moans,

Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the stones; Lay by these:

Sing willow, willow, willow;
Pr'ythee, hie thee; he'll come anon.—

Sing all a green willow must be my garlánd.
II.

Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,—
Nay, that's not next.-Hark! who is it that knocks!
Emil. It is the wind.

Des. I call'd my love, faise love; but what said he [then? Sing willow, &c.

If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men. So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; Doth that bode weeping?