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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:
yet she'll kneel and pray; I've seen her do't.

Des. My lord, what is your will ?
Oth. 'Pray, chuck, come hither.
Des. What is your pleasure ?

Oth. Let me see your eyes :-
Look in


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 im

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

Oth. What art thou?
Des. Your wife, my lord, -your true, and loyal

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?

How am I false ?
Oth. O Desdemona !-away! away! away!

Des. Alas, the heavy day !-Why do you weep ?
Am I the occasion of those tears, my lord?
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; Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips; Given to captivity me, and my hopes ; I should have found in some part of my soul A drop of patience :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 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 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,
And will not hear it!~What committed !-
Impudent strumpet!

Des. By Heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are you not a strumpet?
Des. No, as I am a christian,

Oth. I cry you mercy, then;
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That marry'd with Othello.—You, mistress,

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That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell,-

You, you,-ay, you, -
We've done our course : there's money for your pains;
pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.

Emil. Alas! what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you do, my good lady?
Good madam, what's the matter with my lord ?

Des. With whom?
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 :-
Call thy husband hither.
Emil. Here is a change indeed !

[Exit. 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, lago, my lord bath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.

Des. Am I that name, lago?
Iago. What name, fair lady?
Des. Such as, she says, niy lord did say I was.

Emil. . He call’d 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. 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,
Have not devis'd this slander ; I'll be hang'd else.

Iago. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Des. If any such there be, Heaven pardon him!
Emil. A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw bis

bones! Why should he call her, whore? who keeps her com

pany? What place? what time? what form ? what likeli

The Moor's abus'd by some outrageous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow :-
Oh, Heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold;


honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world !

Iago. Speak within door.
Emil. O, fie upon him! Some such 'squire he was,
That turn'd

wit the

side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor. 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, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel :If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed ; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, Delighted them in any other form; Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will,—though he do shake me off To beggarly'divorcement,---love him dearly, Comfort forswear me!--Unkindness may do much ;

And put

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.

How now, Roderigo ?

Rod. I do not find that thou deal'st justly with me.
Iago. What in the contrary?

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 ihe 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


words and performances are no kin together.

Iago. You charge me most unjustly. 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 memshe 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 band, 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

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