An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, Des. No, unpin me here. This Lodovico is a proper man. Emil. A very handsome man. And he speaks well. Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walk'd barefoot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip. Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow; [Singing. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow: The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans; Sing willow, &c. Her sait tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; Lay by these: Sing willow, willow, willow; Pr'ythee, hie thee; he'll come anon. Sing all a green willow must be my garlánd. 2. Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,— Nay, that's not next.-Hark! who is it that knocks? Emil. It is the wind, Des. I call'd my love, false love; but what said he then? Sing willow, &c. If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men. So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; Doth that bode weeping? Emil. "Tis neither here nor there. Des. I have heard it said so.-O, these men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emilia,That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind? Emil. There be some such, no question. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. Why, would not you? Des. No, by this heavenly light! Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light; I might do't as well i'the dark. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'Tis a great price For a small vice. Des. Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,—Why, who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't. Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world. Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. Des. I do not think, there is any such woman. To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd for. But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults, If wives do fall: Say, that they slack their duties, Why, we have galls; and, though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have? Then, let them use us well: else, let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct us to. Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such usage send, Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! I [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. A STREET. Enter Iago and Roderigo. Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come: Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home; sword. Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. Iago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy [Retires to a little distance. Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed; And yet he has given me satisfying reasons:'Tis but a man gone:-forth, my sword; he dies. [Goes to his stand. Iago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the sense, And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, Every way makes my gain: Live Roderigo, Of gold, and jewels, that I bobb'd from him, As gifts to Desdemona; It must not be: if Cassio do remain, He hath a daily beauty in his life, That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor |