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How have I been behav'd, that he might tick
The fmall'ft opinion of my leaft mifule?

SCENE

XI. Enter Iago and Emilia.

Iago. What is your pleafure, Madam? how is't with you?

Def. I cannot tell; thofe that do teach your babes, Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks;

He might have chid me fo: for, in good faith,
I am a child to chiding.

Iago. What's the matter, Lady?

Emil. Alas, lago, my Lord hath so bewhor'd her, Thrown fuch defpight and heavy terms upon her, That true hearts cannot bear it.

Def. Am I that name, Iago? lago. What name, fair Lady?

Def. Such as fhe faid my Lord did fay I was. Emil. He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink, Could not have laid fuch terms upon his callet. Iago. Why did he fo?

Def. I do not know; I'm fure I am none fuch. Iago Do not weep, do not weep; alas the day! Emil. Hath fhe forfook fo 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.

Iago. 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 bufy and infinuating rogue,

Some cogging, cozening flave, to get fome office,
Has not devis'd this flander: I'll be hang'd elfe.
lago. Fie, there is no fuch man; it is impoflible.
Def. If any fuch there be, heav'n pardon him!
Emil. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why fhould he call her whore? who keeps her com-

pany?

What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?
The Moor's abus'd by fome moft villanous knave,
Some base notorious kuave, fome fcurvy fellow.
Oh heav'n, that fuch companions thou'd ft unfold,

And put in every honest hand a whip,

To lath the rafcal naked through the world,
Ev'n from the eaft to th' weft!

Iago. Speak within door.

Emil. Oh fie upon them! fome fuch 'fquire he was, "That turn'd your wit the feamy fide without,

And made you to fufpect me with the Moor.

Iago. You are a fool; go to,

Def. Alas, Iago,

"What fhall I do to win my Lord again?

"Good friend, go to him; by this light of heav'n, "I know not how I loft him. Here I kneel;

[Kneeling.

"If e'er my will did trefpafs 'gain his love,
"Or in difcourfe, or thought, or actual deed;
"Or that mine eyes, mine, ears, or any fenfe,
"Delighted them on any other form;
"Or that I do not yet, and ever did,

"And ever will, though he doth shake me off
"To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly,
"Comfort fortwear me ! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,

"But never taint my love, I can't say whore,
It does abhore me, now I fpeak the word;

To do the act that might th' addition earn,

Not the world's mafs of vanity could make me.
Lago I pray you be content; 'tis but his humour;
The bufinefs of the ftate, does him offence,

And he does chide with you.

Def. If 'twere no other,

lago. It is but fo, I warrant.

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[Trumpets.

Hark, how thefe inftruments fummon to fupper!
The meffenger of Venice ftays the meat;

Go in, and weep not; all things thall be well.

[Exeunt Defdemona and Emilia. SCENE XII. Enter Rodorigo to lago.

How now, Rodorigo?

Rod. I do not find that thou deal'ft juftly with me. lago. What in the contrary?

Red. Every day thou doft'ft me with fome device. Iago; and rather, as it feems to me now, keep'st from

me all conveniency, than fupplieft me with the leaft advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet perfuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly fuffer'd.

lago. Will you hear me, Rodorigo?

Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; and your words and performances are no kin together.

Iago. You charge me most unjustly.

Rod. With nought but truth: I have wafted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Defdemona, would half have corrupted a votarift. You have told me, fhe hath receiv'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of sudden refpect and acquittance; but I find none.

Iago. Well, go to; very well.

Rod. Very well, go to;

cannot go to, man, nor 'tis not very well; nay, I think, it is fcurvy, and begin to find myself fobb'd in it.

Iago. Very well.

Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make myfelf known to Defdemona: if the will return me my jewels, I will give over my fuit, and repent my unlawful folicitation; if not, affure yourself, I will feek fatisfaction of you.

Iago. You have faid now

Rod. Ay, and faid nothing, but what I proteft intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now I fee there's mettle in thee; and even from this inftant do I build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Rodorigo: thou haft taken against me a moft juft exception; but I proteft I have dealt moft directly in thy affair.

Rod. It hath not appear'd.

lago. I grant indeed it hath not appear'd; and your fufpicion is not without wit and judgment. But, Rodorigo, if thou haft that in thee indeed, which I have greater reafon to believe now than ever, (I mean, purpofe, courage, and valour), this night fhew it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Defdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devife engines for my life.

Rod. Well; what is it? is it within reafon and com

pafs?

Iago. Sir, there is especial commiffion come from Venice to depute Caffio in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? why then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.

lago. Oh, no; he goes into Mauritania, and taketh away with him the fair Defdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by fome accident: wherein none can be fo determinate, as the removing of Caffio.

Rod. How do you mean removing him?

Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me to do?

Iago. Ay, if you dare do yourself à profit and a right. He fups 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 will fashion to fall out between twelve and one), you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near to fecond your attempt, and he fhall fall between us. Come, ftand not amaz'd at it, but go along with me; I will fhew you fuch a neceffity 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 reafon for this.
Iago. And you shall be satisfied.

S CENE XIII.

[Exeunt.

Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia, and Attendants.

Lod. I do befeech you, Sir, trouble yourself no further. Oth. Oh, pardon me: 'twill do me good to walk. Lod. Madam, good night; I humbly thank your Ladythip.

Def. Your honour is most welcome.

Oth. Will you walk, Sir? Oh Desdemona !

Def. My Lord.

[Exeunt Lodovico, &c.

Oth. Get you to bed on th' inftant, I will be return'd forthwith; difmifs your attendant there; look it be done.

[Exit.

VOL. VIII.

2

Def. I will, my Lord.

Emil. How goes it now? he looks gentler than he

did.

Def. He fays, he will return incontinent;

And hath commanded me to go to bed,

And bid me to dismiss you.

Emil. Difmifs me?

Def. It was his bidding; therefore, good Æmilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu. We must not now displease him.

Emil. I would you had never seen him!

Def. So would not I; my love doth fo approve him, That even his ftubbornness, his checks, and frowns, (Pr'ythee, unpin me), have grace and favour in them. Emil. I have laid thofe fheets you bade me on the bed.

Def. All's one good father! how foolish are our If I do die before thee, pr'ythee shroud me In one of these fame fheets.

Emil. Come, come; you talk.

[minds!

Def. My mother had a maid call'd Barbara,
She was in love; and he fhe lov'd forfook her,
And the prov'd mad: fhe had a fong of willow;
An old thing 'twas, but it exprefs'd her fortune,
And fhe dy'd finging it. That fong to-night
Will not go from my mind; I've much ado,
But to go hang my head all at one fide,
And fing it like poor Barbara.

Pr'ythee dispatch.
Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown ?

Def. No, unpin me here.

This Lodovico is a proper man.

Emil. A very handsome man.

Def He speaks well.

Emil. I know a lady in Venice would have walk'd barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip. Def. The poor foul fat finging by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow: [Singing.

Her hard on her bofom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:

The fresh ftreams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;
Sing willow, &c.

Her falt tears fell from her, and foftened the ftones ;

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