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That thou 'art false as hell.
Def. To whom, my Lord ? With whom ? how am I falfe ?
Oth. Ah, Desdemona, away, away, away
Def. Alas the heavy day! why do you weep?
Am I the motive of these tears, my Lord?
If haply you my father do suspect
An inftrument 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 heav'n
To try me with affliction, had a lit rain'd
All kind of fores and shames on my bare head,
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
Giv'n to captivity me and my hopes;
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience. But alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the hand of scorn
To point his now and moving finger at
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well.
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 cherubin ;
3 'There, therelook grim as hell.
Def. I hope my noble Lord esteems me honeft.
Oih. Oh ay, as summer-Alies are in the fhambles,
That quicken ev'n with blowing. Oh thou weed !
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the fense akes at thee
Would thou had'st ne'er been born!
Def. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed ?
Oih. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What, what committed ?
Comold edit. Theob. emend.
Committed? oh, thou publick commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did 4'I but speak thy deeds.' What, what committed ?
Heav'n stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hulh'd within the hollow mine of earth
And will not hear't. S'Committed ?"-impudent strumpet !
Des. By heav'n, you do me wrong.
Otb. Are not you a ftrumpet?
Def. No, as I am a christian.
If to preserve this veffel for my Lord
From any other foul unlawful touch,
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Orb. What, not a whore?
Def. No, as I shall be faved.
Oih. Is't possible?
Def. Oh, heav'n forgive us!
Oth. I cry you mercy, then.
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Orbella
S C E NE X.
"'Come you, mistress,
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,
And keep the gate 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,
Æmil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?
How do you, Madam? how do you, my good Lady ?
Def. 'Faith, half alleep.
Æmil. Good Madam, what's the matter with my Lord ?
Def. 7/With whom, Æmilia ?
Æmil. Why, with my Lord, Madam.
Def. Who is thy Lord?
Æmil. 5 What committed : 6 You, mistress, 7 With whom?
Æmil. He that is yours, sweet Lady.
Def. I have none; do not talk to me, Æmilia,
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what should go by water. Pray, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets, remember :
And call thy husband hither.
Æmil. Here's a change indeed!
Def. 'Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet :
How have I been behav'd, that he might stick
The small’It opinion of my least misuse?
Enter Iago and Æmilia. lago. What is your pleasure, Madam? how is't with you?
Des. I cannot tell; those that do teach your babes, Do it with gentle means, and easie tasks; He might have chid me so: for in good, faith, I am a child to chiding.
Iago. What is the matter, Lady?
Æmil. Alas, Iago, my Lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despight and heavy terms upon her,
That true hearts cannot bear it.
Def. Am I that name, Jago?
Ingo. What name, fair Lady?
Des. Such as she said my Lord did say I was.
Æmil. He callid her whore ; a beggar, in his drink, Could not have laid such terms upon his callat.
Iago. Why did he fo?
Dif. I do not know ; I'm sure I am none such.
lago. Do not weep, do not weep ; alas the day!
Æmil. Hath the 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.
lago. Beshrew him fort: how comes this trick upon him?
Def. Nay, heav'n doth know.
Æmil. I will be hang'd if fome eternal villain,
Some busie and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening Nave, to get some office,
Has not devis'd this Nander : I'll be hang'd else.
Iago. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Des. If any such there be, heav'n pardon him !
Æmil. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her whore ? who keeps her company?
What place? what time? what form? what likelyhood ?
The Moor's abus'd by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some fcurvy fellow.
Oh heav'n, that such companion thou’dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Ey'n from the east to th' west!
lago, Speak within door.
Æmil. Oh fie upon him! Some such 'squire he was
That turn'd your wit the seamy side without,
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.
Iago. You are a fool; go to.
Des. Alas, Iago,
What shall I do to win my Lord again?
Good friend, go to him; by this light of heav'n,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel; [Kneeling.
If e'er my will did trespass ’gainst his love;
Or in discourse, or thought, or actual deed ;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them on 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 his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. I can't say whore,
It does abhor me now I speak the word ;
To do the act, that might th' addition earn,
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
Iago. I pray you be content; 'tis but his humour ;
The 8 them !
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you. ...
Des. If 'twere no other
lago. It is but so, I warrant. Hark how thefe instruments summon to fupper! [Trumpet. The messenger of Venice stays the meat ; Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.
[Exeunt Desdemona and Æmilia. S CE N E XII.
How now, Rodorigo?
Rod. I do not find that thou deal'st juftly with me.
Iago. What in the contrary?
Rod. Every day thou dof'st me with some device, Iago ; and rather, as it feems to me now, keep'st from me all conveniency, than suppliest me with the leaft advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet perswaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffer'd.
lago. Will you hear me, Rodorigo ?
Rod. I have heard too much ; and your words and performances are no kin together.
Iago. You charge me most unjustly.
Rod. With nought but truth : I have wasted my self 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 hath receiv'd them, and return’d 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 'ris not very well ; nay, I think it is fcurvy , and begin to find my self fob'd in it.
lago. Very well.
Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make my self known to Desdemona : If she will return me my jewels,