Enter Desdemona and Emilia. Def. My Lord, what is your Will? Oth. Pray you, Chuck, come hither. Oth. Let me fee your Eyes; look in my Face. Oth. Some of your Function, Mistress, Your Mystery, your Mystery; nay dispatch. [Exit Æmil. Def. Upon my Knee, what doth your Speech import? I understand a Fury in your Words. Oth. Why? What art thou? Def. Your Wife, my Lord; your true and loyal Wife. Oth. Come fwear it; damn thy felf, being like one Of Heav'n, the Devils themselves fhould fear to feize thee. Therefore be double damn'd; fwear thou art honeft. Def. Heav'n doth truly know it. Oth. Heav'n truly knows, That thou art falfe as Hell. Def. To whom, my Lord? Oth. Ah, Desdemon, away, away, away An Inftrument of this your calling back, Lay not your Blame on me; if you have loft him, Oth. Had it pleas'd Heav'n, To try me with Affliction, had he rain'd No 4 The Fountain from the which my Current runs, To knot and gender in. Turn thy Complexion there, Def. I hope my noble Lord efteems me Honeft. Oth. O ay, as Summer-Flies are in the Shambles, Would thou'dft never been born! Def. Alas, what ignorant Sin have I committed? Def. Oh Heav'n forgive us. I took you for that cunning Whore of Venice, That have the Office oppofite to Saint Peter, And keep the Gate of Hell. You, you! Ay you! We have done our courfe, there's Mony for your Pains; I pray you, turn the Key, and keep our Counfel. [Exit. Emil. Alas, what does this Gentleman conceive? How do you, Madam? How do you, my good Lady? Def. Faith, half afleep. Amil. Good Madam, what's the matter with my Lord? Emil. Why, with my Lord, Madam ? Emil. He that is yours, fweet Lady. Def. I have none, do not talk to me, Æmilia, Amil. Here's a change indeed. Def. 'Tis meet I fhould be us'd fo, very meet How have I been behav'd, that he might stick The smallest Opinion on my leaft mifufe? Enter Jago, and Æmilia. Jago. What is your Pleafure, Madam ? How is't with you? Def. I cannot tell; thofe that do teach your Babes, He might have chid me fo; For in good Faith, Jago. What's the Matter, Lady? Emil. Alas, Jago, my Lord hath fo bewhor'd her, Def. Am I that Name, Jago? Def. Such as the faid my Lord did fay I was. Def. I do not know; I am fure I am none fuch. Jago. Do not weep, do not weep; alas the Day! Emil. Hath the forfook so many noble Matches? Her Father? And her Country? And her Friends? To be call'd Whore? Would it not make one weep? Def. It is my wretched Fortune, [Exit. Fazo. Jago. Befhrew him for't; how comes this trick upon him? Def. Nay, Heav'n doth know. Emil. I will be hang'd if fome eternal Villain, Some cogging, cozening Slave, to get some Office, Jago. Fie, there is no fuch Man; it is impoffible. Amil. A Halter pardon him, and Hell gnaw his Bones. Why should he call her Whore? Who keeps her Company? What Place? what Time? what Form? what Likelyhood? The Moor's abus'd by fome moft villanous Knave, To lafh the Rafcal naked through the World, Jago. Speak within Door. Amil. Oh fie upon them! Some fuch 'Squire he was Def. Alas, Jago, What shall I do to win my Lord again? [Kneeling. Good Friend, go to him; for by this light of Heav'n, But never taint my Love. I cannot lay Whore, To do the A&t, that might the Addition earn, Jago. It is but fo, I warrant, Hark how thefe Inftruments fummon to fupper; [Trumpets. The Meffenger of Venice ftays the Meat; Go in, and weep not; all things fhall be well. How now, Redorigo? Red. I do not find [Exeunt Defdemona and Emilia. Enter Rodorigo. That thou deal'ft juftly with me. Rod. Every day thou doft'st me with fome device, Jago, and rather as it feems to me now, keep'ft from me all conveniency, than fupplieft me with the leaft Advantage of hope; I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet perfwaded to put up in Peace, what already I have foolifhly fuffer'd. Jago. Will you hear me, Rodorigo? Rod. I have heard too much; and your words and performances are no kin together. Jago. You charge me moft unjustly. Rod. With naught but Truth: I have wafted my felf out of my means. The Jewels you have had from me to deliver Desdemona, would half have corrupted a Votarist. you have told me the hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of fudden refpe&t, and acquaintance, but I find none, Jago. Well, go to; very well, Rod. Very well, go to; I cannot go to, Man, nor 'tis not very well; nay, I think it is Scurvy; and begin to find my felf fob'd in it. Fago. Very well. Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well; I will make my felf known to Desdemona. If fhe will return me my Jewels, I will give over my Suit, and repent my unlawful Solicitation. If not, affure your felf, I will feek Satisfaction of you. Jago. |