Lod. Who, I my lord?

Oth. I, you did wish that I would make her turne:
Sir she can turne, and turne, and yet go on,

And turne againe, and the can weepe fir, weepe;
And shee's obedient, as you fay, obedient;
Very obedient, proceed you in your teares,
Concerning this fir: O well painted paffion :
I am commanded here :-get you away,
I'le fend for you anon:-fir, I obey the mandat,
And will returne to Venice :-hence, auant,
Caffio fhall haue my place; and fir to night
I doe intreate that we may fup together,
You are welcome fir to Cypres,-goates and monkies.

Lod. Is this the noble Moore, whom our full fenate
Call all in all fufficient? This the noble nature,
Whom paffion could not shake? Whose solid vertue,
The fhot of accident, nor dart of chance
Could neither graze, nor peirce ?

lag. He is much changed.

Lod. Are his wits fafe? is he not light of braine? lag. He's that he is, I may not breathe my cenfure, What he might be, if as he might, he is not,

I would to heauen he were.

Lod. What, ftrike his wife.

Jag. Faith that was not fo well; yet would I knew That ftroake would proue the worst.

Lod. Is it his vfe?

Or did the letters worke vpon his blood.

And new create this fault?

lag. Alas, alas.

It is not honesty in me to speake,

What I haue feene and knowne, you shall obferue him *,

Exit.

↓ bome.

bim omitted.

And

And his owne courfes will denote him fo,

That I may faue my fpeech: doe but goe after,
And marke how he continues.

Lod. I am forry that I am deceiu'd in him.

Enter Othello and Emillia.

Oth. You haue feene nothing then.

Em. Nor euer heard, nor euer did fufpect.

Exeunt.

Oth. Yes, and you haue feene Caffio and the together. Em. But then I faw no harme, and then I heard Each fillable that breath made vp betweene 'em.

Oth, What, did they neuer whisper ?

Em. Neuer, my lord.

Oth. Nor fend you out o'the way ?

Em. Neuer.

Oth. To fetch her fan, her mask, her gloues, nor nothing? Em. Neuer, my lord,

Oth. That's strange.

Em. I durft my lord, to wager fhe is honest,
Lay downe my foule at ftake: if you thinke other,
Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bosome,
If any wretch ha put this in your head,

Let heauens requite it with the ferpents curfe.
For if the be not honeft, chafte, and true,
There's no man happy, the pureft of her sex ‡
Is foule as flander.

Oth. Bid her come hither, goe,

Exit Emillia.

She fayes enough; yet fhe's a fimple bawde,
That cannot fay as much: this is a fubtle whore,
A closet, locke and key, of villainous fecrets,
And yet shee'll kneele and pray, I ha feene her do't.

+ Heaven require it.

their wives.

Enter

Enter Defdemona and Emillia,

Def. My lord, what is your will?

Oth. Pray chucke come hither.

Def. What is you pleasure ?

Oth. Let me fee your eyes-looke in my face.
Def. What horrible fancy's this?
Oth. Some of your function mistreffe,

Leaue procreants alone, and fhut the dore,
Coffe, or cry hem, if any body come,
Your mistery, your mistery: nay dispatch.

Exit Em. §

Des. Vpon my knees, what does your speech import ? I vnderstand a fury in your words,

But not the words.

Oth. Why, what art thou?

Def. Your wife my lord, your true and loyall wife.
Oth. Come, fweare it, dam thy felfe

Leaft being like one of heauen, the diuells themfelues
Should feare to cease thee, therefore be double dambd,
Sweare thou art honeft.

Def. Heauen doth truely know it.

Oth. Heauen truely knowes, that thou art falfe as hell. Def. To whom, my lord, with whom? how am I false? Oth. O Defdemona, away, away, away.

Def. Alas the heauy day, why do you weepe?

Am I the occafion of those teares my lord?

If haply you my father doe fufpect,

An inftrument of this your calling backe,

Lay not your blame on me; if you haue left || him,

Why I haue left || him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heauen

To try me with affliction, had he ram'd

All kindes of fores, and fhames on my bare head,
Steep'd me in pouerty, to the very lips,
Giuen to captiuity, me and my hopes,

I should haue found in fome part of my foule
A drop of patience; but alas, to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorne,

To point his flow vnmouing fingers * at-oh, oh,
Yet could I beare that too, well, very well.
But there where I haue garner'd vp my heart,
Where either I must liue, or beare no life,

The fountaine, from the which my currant runnes,
Or elfe dryes vp, to be difcarded thence,

Or keepe it as a cefterne, for foule toades

To knot and gender in: turne thy complexion there,
Patience thy young and rofe-lip'd cherubin,

I here looke grim as hell.

Def. I hope my noble lord efteemes me honeft.
Oth. O I, as fummers flies, are in the shambles,
That quicken euen with blowing :

O thou blacke weede, why art fo louely faire ?
Thou fmell'ft fo fweete, that the fence akes at thee,
Would thou hadst ne're bin borne.

Def. Alas, what ignorant finne haue I committed?
Oth. Was this faire paper, this most goodly booke,
Made to write whore on +?-What, committed?
Heauen stops the nose at it, and the moone winkes,
The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meetes,

Is husht within the hallow mine of earth,

And will not hear't :-what committed,—impudent strumpet ?

finger.

+ upon.

↑ Committed: ob they publick commoner ; I should make very forges of my cheekes,

That would to cinders burne up modeftie,

Did I but fpeak thy deedes: what committed ?
Heauen, &c.

Def.

Def. By heauen you doe me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a ftrumpet?
Def. No, as I am a Chriftian:

If to preferue this veffell for my lord,
From any hated §§ foule vnlawful touch,
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?

Def. No, as I fhall be faued.

Oth. Ift poffible?

Enter Emillia

Def. O heauen forgivenesse +
Oth. I cry you mercy ‡,

I tooke you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello: you miftriffe,

That haue the office oppofite to S. Peter,

And keeps the gates in hell, I, you, you, you §;

We ha done our courfe; there's money for your paines,
I pray you turne the key, and keep our counsell.
Em. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How doe you madam, how doe you my good lady?
Def. Faith halfe asleepe.

Em. Good madam, what's the matter with my lord ?
Def. With who?

Em. Why with my lord madam |.

Def. I ha none, doe not talke to me Emillia,

I cannot weepe, nor anfwer haue I none,

But what should goe by water: preethee to night

Lay on my bed our ** wedding sheetes, remember,
And call thy husband hither.

Em. Here is a change indeed.

Exit.

Exit.