I cannot weep; nor answer have I none,
But what should go by water. Pr'y thee, to-night
Lay on my bed my wedding sheets: remember:-
And call thy husband hither.

Emil.

Here is a change, indeed! [Exit. Des. 'Tis meet I should be used so, very meet. How have I been behaved, that he might stick The small'st opinion on my great'st abuse?

Re-enter EMILIA, with IAGO.

Iago. What is your pleasure, madam? How is it with you?

Des. I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes,

Do it with gentle means and easy tasks:
He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.

Iago.

What's the matter, lady?

Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, As true hearts cannot bear.

Des. Am I that name, Iago?
Iago. What name, fair lady?
Des. Such as she says my lord did
I was.
Emil. He called her whore :-a beggar, in his
drink

say

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, Have 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?

What place; what time; what form; what likelihood?

The Moor's abused by some most villanous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow:-
O heaven, that such companions thou 'dst unfold;
And put in every honest hand a whip,

To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Even from the east to the west!

I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:-
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them in any other form;
Or that I do not yet, and ever did,
And ever will, though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement,-love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,
But never taint my love. I cannot say, whore;
It does abhor me, now I speak the word:
To do the act that might the addition earn,
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
Iago. I pray you, be content; 't is but his humour:
The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.

Rod. I do not find that thou deal'st justly with me.

Iago. What in the contrary?

Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now) keep'st me from all conveniency, than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it: nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.

Iago. Will you hear me, Roderigo? Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words and performances are in no kin together. Iago. You charge me most unjustly. Rod. With nought but truth. I I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Desdemona, would half have corrupted a votarist. You have told me she has received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance: but I find none.

Iago. Well go to: very well.

Rod. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 't is not very well. By this hand, I say it is

very scurvy; and begin to find myself fobbed

in it.

Iago. Very well.

Rod. I tell you 't is not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: if she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent my unlawful solicitation: if not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you.

Iago. You have said now.

Rod. Ay, and I have said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even from this instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: thou hast taken against me a most just exception; but yet I protest I have dealt most directly in thy affair.

Rod. It hath not appeared.

Iago. I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee indeed which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,—I mean purpose, courage, and valour, this night shew it: if thou the next night following enjoy'st not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.

Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason and compass?

Iago. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place. Rod. Is that true? Why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.

Iago. O, no: he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident: wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio.

Rod. How do you mean removing of him? Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's place: knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me do? Iago. Ay; if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him:-he knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence (which I shall fashion to fall out between twelve and one), you may take him at your pleasure: I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me: I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste about it.

Rod. I will hear further reason for this.
Iago. And you shall, be satisfied. [Exeunt.

Des. My mother had a maid called Barbara: She was in love; and he she loved proved mad, And did forsake her. She had a song of "willow:" An old thing 't was, but it expressed her fortune, And she died singing it. That song, to-night, Will not go from my mind: I have much to do But to go hang my head all at one side, And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'y thee despatch. Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? Des. No, unpin me here.—

This Lodovico is a proper man.

Emil. A very handsome man.

DESDEMONA sings.

The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow;

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,

Sing willow, willow, willow:

Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo 't when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but for the whole world,-

to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for 't.

Des. Beshrew me if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.

Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world: and, having the world for your labour, 't is a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such woman. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage As would store the world they played for. But I do think it is their husbands' faults If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps; Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite : Why, we have galls; and though we have some

- Enter IAGO and RODERIGO.

Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk: straight will he come :

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.
Quick, quick; fear nothing: I'll be at thy elbow.
It makes us, or it mars us: think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand: I may miscarry in 't.
Iago. Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy

sword. [Retires to a little distance. Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed; And yet he has given me satisfying reasons:'Tis but a man gone :-forth, my sword: he dies. [Goes to his stand.

Iago. I have rubbed this young quat almost to
the sense,

And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain :-live Roderigo,
He calls me to a restitution large

Of gold and jewels, that I bobbed from him,
As gifts to Desdemona :

It must not be :-if Cassio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life
That makes me ugly and besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him: there stand I in much peril:
No, he must die. But so; I hear him coming.

Enter CASSIO.

Rod. I know his gait; 't is he:-villain, thou diest!

[Rushes from his post, and makes a pass at CASSIO. Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st:I will make proof of thine.

[Draws, and wounds RODERIGO.

Rod.

O, I am slain!

Enter OTHELLO, at a distance. Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his word. Rod. O, villain that I am! Oth. Hark! 't is even so. Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon! Oth. "T is he :-O brave Iago, honest, and just, That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong! Thou teachest me.-Minion, your dear lies dead, And your fate hies apace. Strumpet, I come: Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted:

Thy bed, lust-stained, shall with lust's blood be spotted. [Exit OTHELLO.

Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO, at a distance. Cas. What, ho! No watch? no passage? Murder! murder!

Gra. "Tis some mischance: the cry is very direful. Cas. O help!

Rod. O, help me here!

Cas. That's one of them.
Iago.

O murderous slave! O villain !
[IAGO stabs RODERIGO.
Rod. O damned Iago! O inhuman dog!—
O! O! O!

Iago. Kill men i'the dark!-Where be these bloody thieves?—

How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!
What may you be? are you of good or evil?
Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.
Iago. Signior Lodovico?

the chair.

Iago. He, he; 'tis he.-O, that 's well said: [A chair brought in. Some good man bear him carefully from hence: I'll fetch the general's surgeon.-For you, mistress, [TO BIANCA.

Save you your labour.-He that lies slain here, Cassio,

Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?

Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man. Iago. What, look you pale? [TO BIANCA. O, bear him out o' the air.

[CASSIO and RODERIGO are borne off. Stay you, good gentlemen.-Look you pale, mistress?

Do you perceive the ghastness of her eye?—
Nay, if you stare we shall hear more anon.-
Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:
Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness will speak,
Though tongues were out of use.