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Lod.

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S CE N E VI.
Enter Lodovico, Desdemona, and Attendants, from the

Palace.
AVE you, worthy General... ?

Oth. With all Lod. The Duke and the Senators of Venice greet you.

[Gives him a letter. Oth. I kiss the Inftrument of their pleasures. Des. And what's the news, good Cousin Lodovico ? Iago. I am very glad to see you,

fignior. Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you; how does lieutenant Casio?
Iago. Lives, Sir.
Def. Cousin, there's fall'n between him and my

lord
An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
Oth. Are you sure of that?

[Afide. Def. My lord?

-... Oth. This fail you not to do, as you will [Reads.

Lod. He did not call; he's busy in the paper. Is their division 'twixt my lord and Casio ?

Def. A most unhappy one; I would do much
Tatone them, for the love I bear to Caffio.

Oth. Fire and brimstone !
Def. My lord 1631 1
Oih. Are you wise ?
Def. What, is he angry?

Lod. 'May be, the letter mov'd him. ?
For, as I think, they do command him home,
Deputing Caffio in his Government.

Des. Trust me, I am glad on't s
Oth. Indeed !
Def. My lord!

[Aside.
Uth. I am glad to see you mad.
Des. Why, sweet Othello?
Din. Devil!

(Striking her.

Lod.

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Des. I have not desery'd this.

Lod. My lord, this would not be believ'd in Venice,
Though I should swear, I saw't. 'Tis very much ;
Make her amends, she weeps.

Oth. Oh devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, :
Each drop, she falls, would prove a crocodile :
Out of my fight-
Def. I will

not stay t' offend you. [Going
Lod. Truly, an obedient lady:
I do beseech your lordship, call her back.

Oth. Mistress,
Def. My lord.
Oth. What would you with her, Şir?
Lod. Who, I, my lord?
Oth. Ay; you did with, that I would make her

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Sir, she can turn and tura, and yet go onl;
And turn again. And she can weep, Sir, weep;
And she's obedient: as you say, obedient;v 13
Very obedient-proceed you

in

your tears Concerning this, Sir,--oh well-painted passion ! I am commanded home

get you away,
I'll send for you anon, -Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice.--Hence, avant !

Exit Desdemona.
Cafro shall have my Place., And, Sir, to night
I do entreat that we may sup together.
You are welcome, Sir, to Cyprus-
Goats and monkeys !

Exit.

S C E. N E VII.

Manent Lodovico, and Iago.
Lod. S this the noble Moor, whom

whom our full
Senate
Call all-in-all sufficient? this the Nature,
Which passion could not shake? whose folid virtue

The

IS

The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,
Could neither raze, nor pierce ?

lago. He is much chang'd.
Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain ?
Iago. He's what he is? I may not breathe my cen-

sure.
What he might be, if what he might he is not,
I would to heaven, he were !

Lod. What, ftrike 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,
And new-create this fault?

lago. 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,
And mark how he continues.

Lod. I'm sorry, that I am deceiv'd in him. (Exeunt.

S CE N E

VIII.

Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

ever did fuf

Enter Othello and Æmilia. Oth. VOU have seen nothing then ?

Æmil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did sur

pect. Oth. Yes, you have seen Casio and her together.

Æmil. But then I saw no harm; and then I heard Each fyllable, that breath made up between them.

Oth. What ? did they never whisper?
Æmil. Never, my lord.
Oth. Nor send you out o'th' way?

Emil.

T 3

Emil. Never.
Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor

nothing?
Emil. Never, my lord.
Oth. That's strange!

Æmil. I durft, my lord, to wager she is honest, Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other, Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bosóm. If any wretch hath put this in your head, Let heav'n requite it with the serpent's curse! For if she be not honest, chaste and true, There's no man happy; the purest of their wives Is foul as flander. Oth, Bid her come hither, go.

(Exit £milia. She says enough; yet she's a ample bawd, That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet lock and key of villanous secrets ; And yet she'll kneel, and pray: I've seen her do't

SCENE IX.

Enter Desdemona and Emilia.
Y lord, what is your will ?

Oth. Pray you, chuck, come hither.
Des. What is your pleasure ?
Oth. Let me see your eyes; look in my face.
Def. What horrible fancy's this ?

Oth. Some of your fundion, mistress;
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door,
Cough, or cry, hem, if any body come.
Your mistery, your mistery ;

-nay, dispatch,

Exit Emilia. Def. Upon my knee, what doth your speech im.

port?

I underland a fury in your words,
But not your words.

Oth Why? what art thou ?
Def. Your wife, my lord, your true and loyal wife.

Oth.

Oth. Come, swear it; damn thyself; left, being like

one Of heav'n, the devils themselves should fear to seize

thee. Therefore be double-damn'd; swear, thou art honest.

Def. Heav'n doth truly know it.

Oth, Heav'n truly knows, That thou art falle as hell.

Def. To whom, my lord ? With whom? how am I false ?

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 instrument of this your calling back, Lay not your blame on me ; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too.

Oih. Had it pleas'd heav'n To try me with affliction, had he rain'd All kind of sores and laames 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 flow unmoving 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 thence, Patience, thou young, and rose-lip'd cherubin ; I here look grim as hell.

Def. I hope, my noble lord efteems me honest.

Oth. Oh, ay, as summer flies are in the flambles, That quicken ev'n with blowing.

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