A closet-lock-and-key of villanous secrets:

And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I have seen her do't.

Re-enter EMILIA, with DESDEMmona.

Des. My lord, what is your will?

Oth.

'Pray, chuck, come hither.

Let me see your eyes;

What horrible fancy's this?

Oth. Some of your function, mistress; [To EMILIA. Leave procreants alone, and shut the door;

Cough, or cry-Hem, if any body come.

Your mystery, your mystery;-nay, despatch.

[Exit EMILIA. Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech

import?

I understand a fury in your words,

But not the words.1

Oth. Why, what art thou?

Des.

And loyal wife.

Oth.

Your wife, my lord; your true

Come, swear it, damn thyself;

Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damned, Swear-thou art honest.

Des.

Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell. Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am I

false?

Oth. O Desdemona!-away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord?

If, haply, you my father do suspect,

An instrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.

1 This line is not in the folio.

Oth.

Had it pleased Heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rained
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn1
To point his slow, unmoving finger at,—
O! O!

Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garnered up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence,

Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads

To knot and gender in!-Turn thy complexion there!
Patience, thou young and rose-lipped cherubim;
Ay, there, look grim as hell! 2

Des. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,3
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee.-'Would thou hadst
ne'er been born!

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,

1 Rowe reads "the hand of scorn," a satisfactory emendation; and it is to be wished that there was sufficient authority to admit it into the text. Steevens thinks the old reading right, saying, that Othello takes his idea from a clock.

The folio reads and moving instead of unmoving; but the reading adopted in the text is probably correct, and the meaning seems to be, that the finger of scorn never moves from, or ceases to point at its object.

2 "At such an object do thou, patience, thyself change color; at this do thou, even thou, rosy cherub as thou art, look grim as hell." The old copies have, "I here look grim as hell." I was written for ay; and here was an evident error of the press for there. Theobald made the correction..

3 The quarto reads:

"O thou black weed, why art so lovely fair?

Thou smell'st so sweet, that the sense aches at thee."

Made to write whore upon? What committed!1
Committed!-0, thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,

Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it.

Impudent strumpet!
Des.

What committed!

By Heaven, you do me wrong.

Oth. Are not you a strumpet?
Des.

No, as I am a Christian.

If to preserve this vessel for my lord,2
From any other foul, unlawful touch,
Be-not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?
Des.

Oth. Is it possible?

Des. O Heaven, forgive us!
Oth.

No, as I shall be saved.

I cry you mercy, then

I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello.-You, mistress,

Re-enter EMILIA.

That have the office opposite to saint Peter,

And keep the gate of hell; you! you! ay, you!

We have done our course; there's money for your

pains;

I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel. [Exit. Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady? Des. Faith, half asleep.

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

Des. With who?

1 This and the three following lines are not in the first quarto.

2 This expression is from Sacred Writ:-"To possess his vessel in sanctification."

Emil.

Why, with my lord, madam.

Des. Who is thy lord?1

Emil.

He that is yours, sweet lady. Des. I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia; I cannot weep; nor answer I have none,

But what should go by water. 'Pr'ythee, 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? 2

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 say I was. Emil. He called her whore; a beggar in his drink Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.3 Iago. Why did he so?

Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none such. Iago. Do not weep, do not weep. Alas, the day! Emil. Has she forsook so many noble matches,

1 This and the following speech are not in the quarto.

2 This is the reading of the quarto; which Dr. Johnson thought preferable to the reading of the folio-on my least misuse.

3 A callet is a trull, a drab. The word is of great antiquity in the English language.

Her father and her country, and her friends,

To be called-whore? would it not make one weep? Des. It is my wretched fortune.

Iago.

Beshrew him for it!

How comes this trick upon him?
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,1·
Some base, notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.—
O Heaven, that such companions thou❜dst unfold;
And put in every honest hand a whip,

2

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

Iago.

Speak within door.3

Emil. O, fie upon him! some such squire he was, That turned your wit the seamy side without,

And made you to suspect me with the Moor.

Iago. You are a fool; go to.

Des.

O good lago, What shall I do to win my lord again?

Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel,1

If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,

5

Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,

The quarto has, "some outrageous knave."

2 Companion was a term of contempt.

3 "Do not clamor so as to be heard beyond the house."

4 The quarto omits the rest of this speech.

5" Discourse of thought" is the "discursive range of thought." Pope changed it to "discourse or thought."