(which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and Rod. I will hear further reason for this. SCENE III. Another Room in the Castle. [Exeunt, Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Attendants. Lod. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further. Oth. O, pardon me; 'twill do me good to walk. Lod. Madam, good night; I humbly thank your Oth. Get you to bed on the instant; I will be return'd forthwith: dismiss your attendant there; look, it be done. Des. I will, my lord. [Exeunt Othello, Lodovico, and Attendants. Emil. How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did. Des. He says, he will return incontinent: He hath commanded me to go to bed, And bade me to dismiss you. Emil. Dismiss me! Des. It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu: We must not now displease him. Emil. I would, you had never seen him! Des. So would not I; my love doth so approve him, That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns,Pr'ythee, unpin me,-have grace and favour in them. Emil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. Des. All's one:-Good father! how foolish are our minds! If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me In one of those same sheets. Emil. 1 Come, come, you talk. Des. My mother had a maid, call'd-Barbara; She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her: she had a song of-willow, An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, And she died singing it: That song, to-night, Will not go from my mind; I have much to do, But to go hang my head all at one side, And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, despatch. Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? No, unpin me here. Des. This Lodovico is a proper man. Emil. A very handsome man. Des. And he speaks well. Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walk'd barefoot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip. Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, [Singing. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow; The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans; Sing willow, &c. Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd 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 garland. 2. 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, false 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? Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there. Des. I have heard it said so.-O, these men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emilia,That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind? Emil. There be some such, no question. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. Why, would not you? Des. No, by this heavenly light! Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do't as well i'the dark. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. The world is a huge thing: "Tis a great price For a small vice. Des. Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,-Why, who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't. Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world. Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. Des. I do not think, there is any such woman. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd for. But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults, If wives do fall: Say, that they slack their duties, Why, we have galls; and, though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know, Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such usage send, Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! [Exeunt |