Des. My lord!

Oth. I am glad to see you mad.

Des. Why, sweet Othello?

Oth. Devil!

Des. I have not deserved this.

[Striking her. [Venice,

Lod. My lord, this would not be believed in 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; (70) Out of my sight.

Des. I will not stay t' offend you. [Going. Lod. Truly, an obedient lady:

I do beseech your lordship, call her back.

Oth. Mistress

Des. My lord.

Oth. What would you with her, sir?
Lod. Who, I, my lord?

Oth. Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn;
Sir, she can turn and turn, and yet go on;
And turn again. And she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient: as you say, obedient;

(70) Compare this passage with that in Hamlet to which fig. 75 applies, as it regards the same likeness to a crocodile in the moon.

Very obedient-proceed you in your tearsConcerning 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 Des. Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night I do intreat that we may sup together. You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus―

Goats and monkeys.

Manent LODOVICO and IAGO.

[Exit.

Lod. Is this the noble Moor, whom our full senate Call all-in-all sufficient? this the Nature

Which passion could not shake? whose solid virtue
The shot of accident, nor dart of change,
Could neither raze nor pierce?

Iago. He is much changed.

Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain?
Iago. He's what he is; I may not breathe

censure.

What he might be, if what he might he is not,
I would to Heaven he were !

Lod. What, strike his wife!

my

Iago. 'Faith, that was not so well; yet 'would

That stroke would prove the worst.

Lod. Is it his use?

Or did the letters work upon his blood,
And new create this fault?

[I knew.

lago. Alas, alas !

It is not honesty in me to speak
What I have seen and known.

[him,

You shall observe

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 deceived in him.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA.

Oth. You have seen nothing then?
Emil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
Oth. Yes, you have seen Cassio and her together.
Emil. But then I saw no harm; and then I

heard

Each syllable that breath made up between them. Oth. What? did they never whisper?

Emil. Never, my lord.

Oth. Nor send you out o' th' way?

Emil, Never.

Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor

Emil. Never, my lord.

Oth. That's strange !

[nothing?

Emil. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, soul at stake: if you think other, your thought, it doth abuse your bosom.

my

Lay down
Remove
If any wretch hath put this in

Let Heaven 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 slander.

Oth. Bid her come hither, go.

[Exit Emilia.

She says enough; yet she's a simple 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.

Enter DESDEMONA and EMILIA.

Des. My 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.
Des. What horrible fancy's this?

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

Your mystery, your mystery :——nay, dispatch.

[Exit Emilia.

Des. Upon my knee, what doth your speech I understand a fury in your words, [import? But not your words.

Oth. Why? what art thou?

[wife :

Des. Your wife, my lord; your true and loyal Oth. Come, swear it; damn thyself; lest, being like one

Of Heaven, the devils themselves should fear to

seize thee.

[honest. Therefore be double-damned; swear thou art

Des. Heaven doth truly know it.
Oth. Heaven truly knows

That thou art false as hell.

Des. To whom, my lord?

With whom? how am I false?

Oth. Ah, Desdemona! away, away, away Des. 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.

Oth. Had it pleased Heaven

To try me with affliction, had he rained

All kind of sores and shames of my bare head,
Steeped me in poverty (71) to the very lips,
Given to captivity me
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

?

(71) Steep'd me in poverty, and beggar in his drink. Othello's prototype has, in fact, somewhat the appearance of being clothed in the rags of a pauper.