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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 monkeys!

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 ?

He is much chang'd.
Lod. Are bis wits safe? is he not light of brain?"

Iago. He is that he is; I may not breathe my censure.
What he might be,--if, what he might, he is not,-
I would to heaven, he were.

What, strike his wife!
Iago. 'Faith, that was not so well; Yet’would I knew,
That stroke would prove the worst.

Is it his use?
Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new-create this fault?

Alas, alas!
It is not honesty in me, to speak
What I have seen and known. You shall observe him;
And his own courses will denote bim so,
That I may save my speech: Do but go aster,
And mark how he continues.

Lod. I am sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room in the Castle.

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?


Never, my lord. Oth. Nor send you ont 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 serpenl's curse!
For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There's no man happy; the parest of their wives
Is foul as slander.
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 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?

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

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?

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

Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils ihenselves

Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damu'd,
Swear-thou art honest.

Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as hell. Des. To whom, my lord? With whoin? How am I

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.

Had it pleas'd heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare bead;
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,-
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
Biit 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 cherubim;
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. Othou 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 coinmitted? Oth. Was this fair paper, this inost goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed !

Committed!~0 thou public commoner!
I should jake 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 bush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it: What committed!
Impudent strumpet!

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

No, as I am a Christian :
If to preserve this vessel for my lord,
From any other foul unlawful touch,
Bem-not to be a strumpet, I am none.

Oth. What, not a whore?

No, as I shall be saved.
Oth. Is it possible?
Des. O, heaven forgive us !

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 gale 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 gentlemau conceive? How do you, madam? how do you, iny good lady?

Des. 'Faith, half asleep.
Emil. Good madam, whal's the matter with my lord?
Des. With who?

Why, with my lord, madam.
Des. Who is thy lord ?

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

with you?

What name,


Here is a change, indeed! [Exit. 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. lago. What is your pleasure, madam? How is it

Des. I cannot tell. Those, that do teach young babes, Do it with gentle means,


He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,
am a child to chiding.

Wbat'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?

fair lady? Des. Such as, she says, my lord did say I was.

Emil. He calls 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.
Iago. Do not weep, do not weep; Alas, the day!

Emil. Has she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father, and her country, and her friends,
To be call'd—whore? would it not make one weep?

Des. It is my wretched fortune.

Beshrew him for it!
How comes this trick upon him ?

Nay, heaven doth know.

. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd else.

lago. Fie, there is no such man: it is impossible.
Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him!

Emil. A halter pardon him! and heli gnaw his bones! Why should he call her, whore? who keeps her company What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?


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