Iago.
What is your pleasure, Madam? How is't 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?

Æmil.
Alas, Iago, my Lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despight and heavy terms upon her,
That true hearts cannot bear it.

Des.
Am I that name, Iago?

Iago.
What name, fair lady?

Des.
Such, as, she said, my Lord did say I was.

Æmil.
He call'd her whore; a beggar in his drink,
Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.

Iago.
Why did he so?

Des.
I do not know; I'm sure, I am none such.

Iago.
Do not weep, do not weep; alas, the day!

Æmil.
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father, and her country, and her friends,
To be call'd whore? Would it not make one weep?

Des.
It is my wretched fortune.

Iago.
Beshrew him for't! How comes this trick upon him?

Des.
Nay, heaven doth know.

Æmil.
I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,

Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Has not devis'd this slander: I'll be hang'd else.

Iago.
Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.

Des.
If any such there be, heaven pardon him!

Æmil.
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 abus'd by some most villainous knave,
Some base ^{9 note}notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
Oh heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Ev'n from the east to th' west!

Iago.
^{1 note}Speak within door.

Æmil.
Oh, fie upon them! Some such 'squire he was,
That turn'd your wit ^{2 note}the seamy side without;
And made you to suspect me with the Moor.

Iago.
You are a fool; go to.

Des.
Alas, Iago,
What shall I do to win my Lord again?
Good friend, go to him; by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel; [Kneeling.
If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love,
Or in discourse, or thought, or actual deed;
Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,
Delighted them on 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 can't say, whore;
It does abhor me, now I speak the word;
To do the act, that might th' addition earn,
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.

Iago.
I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour;
The business of the State does him offence,
“And he does chide with you.”

Des.
If 'twere no other,—

Iago.
It is but so, I warrant. [Trumpets.
Hark; how these instruments summon to supper!
And the great messengers of Venice stay;
Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well. [Exeunt Desdemona and Æmilia.

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