Oth.
You have seen nothing then?

Æmil.
Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect.

Oth.
Yes, you have seen Cassio and her together.

Æmilia.
But then I saw no harm; and then I heard
Each syllable, that breath made up between them.

Oth.
What? did they never whisper?

Æmil.
Never, my Lord.

Oth.
Nor send you out o' th' way?

Æmil.
Never.

Oth.
To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?

Æmil.
Never, my Lord.

Oth.
That's strange!

Æmil.
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 hath 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.

Oth.
Bid her come hither, go. [Exit Æmilia.
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've seen her do 't.

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