Iago. And, for Cassio,-let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight. [A Trumpet within. Oth. Excellent good.-What trumpet is that same? Iago. Something from Venice, sure. dovico, "Tis Lo Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him. Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants. Lod. 'Save you, worthy general! Oth. With all my heart, sir. Lod. The duke and senators of Venice greet you. [Gives him a Packet. Oth. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. [Opens the Packet, and reads. Des. And what's the news, good cousin Lodo vico? Iago. I am very glad to see you, signior; Lod. I thank you: how does lieutenant Cassio? Des. Cousin, there's fallen between him and lord An unkind breach: but you shall make all well. Des. My lord? Oth. my This fail you not to do, as you will [Reads. Lod. He did not call: he's busy in the paper. Is there division 'twixt thy lord and Cassio? Des. A most unhappy one; I would do much To atone them," for the love I bear to Cassio. Oth. Fire and brimstone ! Des. My lord? atone them,] Make them one; reconcile them. Oth. Are you wise? Des. What, is he angry ? Lod. 'May be, the letter mov'd him; For, as I think, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his government. Des. By my troth, I am glad on't. Lod. My lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice, Though I should swear I saw it: 'Tis very much; Oth. Des. I will not stay to offend you. Lod. Truly, an obedient lady I do beseech your lordship, call her back. [Going. Oth. Mistress Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her turn: Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, 3 If that the earth could teem, &c.] Shakspeare here alludes to the fabulous accounts of crocodiles. Each tear, says Othello, which falls from the false Desdemona, would generate a crocodile, the most deceitful of all animals, and whose own tears are proverbially fallacious. Each drop she falls-] To fall is here a verb active. And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep; [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 mon kies! [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 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, Iago. 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 him so, That I may save my speech: Do but go after, 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. 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, Oth. Bid her come hither:-go.- Re-enter EMILIA, with DESDEMONA. Des. My lord, what is your will? 4 Oth. Pray, chuck, come hither. Des. What is your pleasure? Let me see your eyes; What horrible fancy's this? Des. [TO EMILIA. Leave procreants alone, and shut the door; [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. And loyal wife. Oth. Your wife, my lord; your true Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be doubledamn'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! If, haply, you my father do suspect, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Oth. To try me with affliction; Had it pleas'd heaven had he rain'd |