She says enough-Yet she's a simple bawd, And yet she'll kneel and pray; I've seen her do't. Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA. Des. My lord, what is your will? Des. What horrible fancy's this? Oth. Some of your function, mistress; 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. 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 Des. [Rises.] To whom, my lord? With whom? Oth. O Desdemona !-away! away! away! It, 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 kind of sores and shames on my bare head; I should have found in some part of my soul But there, where I have garner'd up my heart; To knot and gender in!-Turn thy complexion there, Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest. Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken e'en 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!— 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, Des. By Heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. I cry you mercy, then; I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, That have the office opposite to Saint Peter, And keep the gate of hell, Enter EMILIA. You, you,-ay, you, We've 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 do, my good lady? Good madam, what's the matter with my lord? Emil. 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 : [Exit. Call thy husband hither. Emil. Here is a change indeed! Des. "Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet. Enter IAGO and EMILIA. Iago. What is your pleasure, madam? How is it with you? Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her, Des. Am I that name, Iago? Des. Such as, she says, my lord did say I was. Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none such. Iago. Do not weep, do not weep: Alas, the day! Emil. Hath she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, all her friends, To be call'd-whore? would it not make one weep? Iago. Beshrew him for it! 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, Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office, Why should he call her, whore? who keeps her company? What place? what time? what form? what likelihood? The Moor's abus'd by some outrageous knave, Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow :- To lash the rascal naked through the world! Emil. O, fie upon him! Some such 'squire he was, Iago. 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, Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will,—though he do shake me off And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love. [They raise her. Iago. I pray you, be content; 'tis but 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. 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. Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather, as it seems to me, thou 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. Iago. Will you hear me, Roderigo? Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for and performances are no kin together. Iago. You charge me most unjustly. your words Rod. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Desdemona, would half have corrupted a votarist: You have told me she has received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance; but I find none. Iago. Well; go to; very well. Rod. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not very well: By this hand, I say, 'tis very scurvy; and begin to find myself fobb'd in it. Iago. Very well. Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent my 2 |