SCENE VIII
Cyprus. A Room in the Castle.
[Enter Othello and Emilia.]
OTHELLO
You have seen nothing, then?
EMILIA
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.
OTHELLO
Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
EMILIA
But then I saw no harm, and then I heard
Each syllable that breath made up between them.
OTHELLO
What, did they never whisper?
EMILIA
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO
Nor send you out o’ the way?
EMILIA
Never.
OTHELLO
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
EMILIA
Never, my lord.
OTHELLO
That’s strange.
EMILIA
I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,
Remove your thought,—it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch have put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse!
For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There’s no man happy; the purest of their wives
Is foul as slander.
OTHELLO
Bid her come hither.—Go.
[Exit Emilia.]
She says enough; yet she’s a simple bawd
That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,
A closet-lock-and-key of villainous secrets:
And yet she’ll kneel and pray; I have seen her do’t.
SCENE IX
[Enter Emilia with Desdemona.]
DESDEMONA
My lord, what is your will?
OTHELLO
Pray, chuck, come hither.
DESDEMONA
What is your pleasure?
OTHELLO
Let me see your eyes;
Look in my face.
DESDEMONA
What horrible fancy’s this?
OTHELLO
[To Emilia.] Some of your function, mistress,
Leave procreants alone and shut the door;
Cough, or cry hem, if anybody come.
Your mystery, your mystery;—nay, despatch.
[Exit Emilia.]
DESDEMONA
Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
OTHELLO
Why, what art thou?
DESDEMONA
Your wife, my lord; your true and loyal wife.
OTHELLO
Come, swear it, damn thyself;
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves
Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damn’d.—
Swear thou art honest.
DESDEMONA
Heaven doth truly know it.
OTHELLO
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
DESDEMONA
To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?
OTHELLO
O Desdemona!—away! away! away!
DESDEMONA
Alas the heavy day!—Why do you weep?
Am I the motive 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.
OTHELLO
Had it pleas’d heaven
To try me with affliction; had they rain’d
All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head;
Steep’d me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me
A fixèd figure for the time, for scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at!—
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner’d 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-lipp’d cherubin,—
Ay, there, look grim as hell!
DESDEMONA
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
OTHELLO
O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell’st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee,—would thou hadst ne’er been born!
DESDEMONA
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
OTHELLO
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write “whore” upon? What committed!
Committed!—O thou public commoner!