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To point his slow and moving finger at--(72)
Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth. Oh, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. Oh thou weed! Who art so lovely fair, and smellest so sweet, That the sense akes 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,
(mitted ? Made to write whore upon ? what, what comCommitted ?-ho, thou public commoner! I should make very forges of my cheeks,
(72) Directly opposite to Othello, and just under the remarkable streaks of light on Cassio's person, there is, in light, the likeness of a hand, which may be conceived to have a single finger pointing in either of the two opposite directions.
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
dent strumpet !
Des. No, as I am a christian.
Oth. What, not a whore?
Oth. I cry you mercy, then.
Enter ÆMILIA. You, mistress, That have the office opposite to St. 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.
Æmil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? How do you, madam ? how do you, my good lady?
Des. ’Faith, half asleep.
my lord ?
Des. With whom?
Des. I have none; do not talk to me, Æmilia.
Æmil. Here's a change indeed ! [Exit.
Des. 'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet : How have I been behaved, that he might stick The smallest opinion of my least misuse!
Enter Iago and EMILIA. Iago. What is your pleasure, madam ? how is't
with you? Des. I cannot tell; those, that do teach
Iago. What's the matter, lady?
Des. Am I that name, lago?
Æmil. He called her whore; a beggar in his drink Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
Iago. Why did he so ?
Æmil. Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Des. It is my wretched fortune. [upon him ! Iago. Beshrew him for't ! how comes this trick Des. Nay, Heaven doth know.
Æmil. I will be hanged, if some eternal villain, Some busy and insinuating rogue, Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office, Has not devised this slander: I'll be hanged else.
Iago. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible. Des. If any such there be, Heaven pardon him ! Æmil. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw
his bones! Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?
[hood ? What place? what time? what form ? what likeliThe Moor's abused by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
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.