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,- 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, to-night, I do entreat that we may sup together. You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus. Goats and monkies!

[Exit. 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 ? Iago.

He is much chang’d. Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain? Iago. He is that he is; I may not breathe my

I censure. What he might be,-if, what he might, he is not,I would to heaven, he were. Lod.

What, strike his wife! Iago. 'Faith, that was not so well; Yet 'would I

knew, That stroke would prove the worst. Lod.

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 bis own courses will denote him so, That I may save my speech: Do but go after, And mark how he continues. Lod. I am sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in the Castle.

Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA.

Oth. You have seen nothing then ?
Emil. Nor ever heard ; nor ever did suspect.
Oth. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together. .

Emil. But then I saw no harm; and then I heard Each syllable, that breath made

up

between them. Oth. What, did they never whisper? Emil.

Never, my lord, Oth. Nor send you out o’the way? Emil.

Never. Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor

nothing? Emil. Never, my lord. 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.

[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 : yet she'll kneel, and pray;

I have seen her do't.

And

Re-enter EMILIA, with DESDEMONA. Des. My lord, what is your will ?

a

Oth.

Pray, chuck, come hither.
Des. What is your pleasure ?
Oth.

Let me see your eyes ; Look in

my

face.
Des.

What horrible fancy's this?
Oth. Some of your function, mistress ;

[To Emilia.
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

import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.

Oth. Why, what art thou ?
Des.

Your wife, my lord ; your true
And loyal wife.
Oth:

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. Des.

Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as

hell. Des. To whom, my lord ? with whom? How am

I false?
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

FF

VOL. IX.

All kinds of sörés, 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 !5
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 had'st

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 thou publick 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 ;

- garner'd up my heart ;] That is, treasured up: the garner and the fountain are improperly conjoined.

- turn thy complexion there ! &c.] At such an object do thou, patience, thyself change colour ; at this do thou, even thou, rosy cherub as thou art, look as grim as hell.

5

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 not you 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.

No, as I shall be saved.
Oth. Is it possible?
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,

a

Re-enter EMILÍA. 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, sweeet lady Des. I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia; I cannot weep; nor answer I have none,