Oth. Are you wise? Des. What is he angrie? Lod. May be the Letter mou'd him. For as I thinke, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his Gouernment
Des. Trust me, I am glad on't
Othe. Indeed? Des. My Lord? Othe. I am glad to see you mad
Des. Why, sweete Othello? Othe. Diuell
Des. I haue not deseru'd this
Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice, Though I should sweare I saw't. 'Tis very much, Make her amends: she weepes
Othe. Oh diuell, diuell: If that the Earth could teeme with womans teares, Each drop she falls, would proue a Crocodile: Out of my sight
Des. I will not stay to offend you
Lod. Truely obedient Lady: I do beseech your Lordship call her backe
Des. My Lord
Othe. What would you with her, Sir? Lod. Who I, my Lord? Othe. I, you did wish, that I would make her turne: Sir, she can turne, and turne: and yet go on And turne againe. And she can weepe, Sir, weepe. And she's obedient: as you say obedient. Very obedient: proceed you in your teares. Concerning this Sir, (oh well-painted passion) I am commanded home: get you away: Ile send for you anon. Sir I obey the Mandate, And will returne to Venice. Hence, auaunt: Cassio shall haue my Place. And Sir, to night I do entreat, that we may sup together. You are welcome Sir to Cyprus. Goates, and Monkeys. Enter.
Lod. Is this the Noble Moore, whom our full Senate Call all in all sufficient? Is this the Nature Whom Passion could not shake? Whose solid vertue The shot of Accident, nor dart of Chance Could neither graze, nor pierce? Iago. He is much chang'd
Lod. Are his wits safe? Is he not light of Braine? Iago. He's that he is: I may not breath my censure. What he might be: if what he might, he is not, I would to heauen he were
Lod. What? Strike his wife? Iago. 'Faith that was not so well: yet would I knew That stroke would proue the worst
Lod. Is it his vse? Or did the Letters, worke vpon his blood, And new create his fault? Iago. Alas, alas: It is not honestie in me to speake What I haue seene, and knowne. You shall obserue him, And his owne courses will denote him so, That I may saue my speech: do but go after And marke how he continues
Lod. I am sorry that I am deceiu'd in him.
Enter Othello and aemilia.
Othe. You haue seene nothing then? Aemil. Nor euer heard: nor euer did suspect
Othe. Yes, you haue seene Cassio, and she together
Aemi. But then I saw no harme: and then I heard, Each syllable that breath made vp betweene them
Othe. What? Did they neuer whisper? Aemil. Neuer my Lord
Othe. Nor send you out o'th' way? Aemil. Neuer
Othe. To fetch her Fan, her Gloues, her Mask, nor nothing? Aemil. Neuer my Lord
Othe. That's strange. Aemil. I durst (my Lord) to wager, she is honest: Lay downe my Soule at stake: If you thinke other, Remoue your thought. It doth abuse your bosome: If any wretch haue put this in your head, Let Heauen requit it with the Serpents curse, For if she be not honest, chaste, and true, There's no man happy. The purest of their Wiues Is foule as Slander
Othe. Bid her come hither: go.
She saies enough: yet she's a simple Baud That cannot say as much. This is a subtile Whore: A Closset Locke and Key of Villanous Secrets, And yet she'le kneele, and pray: I haue seene her do't. Enter Desdemona, and aemilia.