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Lod. Are his wits fafe? is he not light of brain? Jago. He's what he is; I may not breathe my cen


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 fo well; yet 'would I knew,

That stroke would prove the worst.
Lod. Is it his ufe?

Or did the letters work upon his blood,

And new-create this fault?

Iago. Alas, alas!

It is not honesty in me to speak

What I have seen and known. You fhall observe him, And his own courfes will denote him fo,

That I may fave my fpeech. Do but go after,

And mark how he continues.

Lod. I'm forry, that I am deceiv'd in him.


Changes to an Apartment in the Palace.

Enter Othello and Æmilia.

Oib. YOU have feen nothing then?


Emil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did sus


Oth. Yes, you have feen Caffio and her together. Emil. But then I faw no harm; and then I heard Each fyllable, that breath made up between them. Oth. What? did they never whisper? Emil. Never, my Lord.


Oth. Nor fend you out o' th' way
Emil. Never.



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

Emil. Never, my Lord.
Oth. That's ftrange!

Emil. I durft, my Lord, to wager she is honeft,
Lay down my foul at ftake: if you think other,
Remove your thought, it doth abuse'
your bofom.
If any wretch hath put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the ferpent's curfe!
For if fhe be not honeft, chafte and true,
There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
Is foul as flander.

Oth. Bid her come hither, go. [Exit Emilia. She fays enough; yet fhe's a fimple bawd,

That cannot fay as much. This is a fubtle whore,
A closet lock and key of villainous fecrets;
And yet she'll kneel, and pray. I've seen her do 't.



Enter Defdemona and Æmilia.

Def. My Lord, what is your will?

Oth. Pray you, Chuck, come hither.
Def. What is your pleasure?

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Oth. Let me fee your eyes. Look in my face.
Def. What horrible fancy's this?

Oth. [To Emilia.] Some of your function, mistress;
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door,
Cough, or cry, bem, if any body come.

Your mystery, your mystery.Nay, dispatch.

[Exit Emilia.

Def. Upon my knee, what doth your fpeech import? I understand a fury in your words,

But not your words.

5 But not your words.] This line is added out of the first edi



Oth. Why? what art thou?

Def. Your wife, my Lord; your true and loyal wife. Oth, Come, fwear it; damn thyself; left, being like one

Of heaven, the devils themselves fhould fear to feize thee.

Therefore be double-damn'd; fwear, thou art honeft. Def. Heaven doth truly know it.

Oth. Heaven truly knows, That thou art falfe as hell.

Def. To whom, my Lord? With whom? How am I falfe?

Oth. Ah, Defdemona! 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 fufpect
An inftrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me; if you have loft him,
Why, I have lost him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heavens

To try me with affliction, had they rain'd
All kind of fores and fhames on my bare head,
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips,
Giv❜n to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in fome place of my
A drop of patience. But alas, to make me
A fixed figure for the hand of fcorn
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
Where either I muft live, or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or elfe dries up; to be difcarded thence;
Or keep it as a ciftern, for foul toads



and the fountain are improperly conjoined. Ff3


6-garner'd up my heart,] That is, treasured up; the garner

To knot and gender in- Turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rofe-lipp'd cherubin ;
Ay, here, look grim as hell.

Def. I hope, my noble Lord efteems me honeft.
Oth. Oh, ay, as summer flies are in the fhambles,
That quicken ev❜n with blowing. Oh thou weed!
Who art fo lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the fenfe akes at thee▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Would, thou hadft ne'er been born!

Def. Alas, what ignorant fin havé I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? what, what committed? Committed?oh, thou publick commoner! I should make very forges of my cheeks, That would to cynders burn up modefty, Did but I fpeak thy deeds. What, what committed? Heaven stops the nofe at it, and the moon winks; The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meets,

Is hufh'd within the hollow mine of earth,

And will not hear 't. What committed? - Impudent ftrumpet!

Def. By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a ftrumpet?
Def. No, as I am a christian.

If to preferve this Veffel for my Lord
From any other, foul, unlawful, touch,
Be not to be a ftrumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?
Def. No, as I fhall be faved.
Oth. Is't poffible?

Def. Oh, heaven forgive us!
Oth. I cry you mercy, then.

I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,

That married with Othello

7 Turn thy complexion there, &c.] At fuch an object do thou, Patience, thy felf change colour; at this do thou, even thou, rofy che sub as thou art, look grim as hell,

The old editions and the new have it,

I bere look grim as kell. I was written for aye, and not fince corrected,


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You, mistress,

That have the office oppofite to St. Peter,

And keep the gate of hell; You! you! ay, you! We have done our course, there's mony for your pains; I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counfel.


Emil. Alas,.what does this gentleman conceive? How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady? Def. 'Faith, half asleep.

Emil. Good madam, what's the matter with my


Def. With whom?

Emil. Why, with my Lord, madam!
Def. Who is thy Lord?

Emil. He that is yours, fweet lady.

Def. I have none; do not talk to me, Emilia.
I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what fhould go by water. Pray, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding fheets-
And call thy husband hither.



Emil. Here's a change indeed!
Def. "Tis meet I fhould be ufed fo, very meet.
How have I been behav'd, that he might stick
• The fmall'ft opinion on my least misuse?

quarto reads,

The Small ft opinion on my
leaft mifufe?] The old

F f 4

The mall'st opinion on my great's abufe.

Which I think is better,


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