To point his slow and moving finger at -(72) Yet could I bear that too, well, very well. [there, To knot and gender in; turn thy complexion Patience, thou young and rose-plied cherubin ; Aye, there, look grim as hell. 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! book, Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly [mitted? Made to write whore upon? what, what comCommitted?-ho, thou public commoner! Ishould 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, [ted? Did I but speak thy deeds. What, what commitHeaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks; The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth, Des. By Heaven you do me wrong. Des. No, as I am a christian. If to preserve this vessel for my lord Des. No, as I shall be saved. Des. Oh, Heav'n forgive us! Oth. I cry you mercy, then. I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, You, mistress, Enter EMILIA. 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. [Exit. Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady? Des. 'Faith, half asleep. Emil. Good madam, what's the matter with my lord? Des. With whom? Emil. Why, 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, 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. Emil. 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 your Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks; [babes, He might have chid me so; for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding. Iago. What's the matter, lady? Emil. Alas, lago, my lord hath so bewhored her, Thrown such despight and heavy terms upon her, That true hearts cannot bear it. Des. Am I that name, Iago? Iago. What name, fair lady? Des. Such as she said, my lord did say I was. Emil. He called 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'm 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, and her friends? To be called whore? would it not make one weep? Des. It is my wretched fortune. [upon him! Iago. Beshrew him for't! how comes this trick Des. Nay, Heaven doth know. Emil. 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! Emil. 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. To lash the rascal naked through the world, Iago. Speak within door. [was, Emil. Oh fie upon them! Some such 'squire he That turned 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 that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will, though he do shake me off |