Part 23

Lod. I thanke you: how do's Lieutenant Cassio? Iago. Liues Sir, Des. Cozen, there's falne betweene him, & my Lord, An vnkind breach: but you shall make all well

Othe. Are you sure of that? Des. My Lord? Othe. This faile you not to do, as you will- Lod. He did not call: he's busie in the paper, Is there deuision 'twixt my Lord, and Cassio? Des. A most vnhappy one: I would do much T' attone, them, for the loue I beare to Cassio

Oth. Fire, and brimestone

Des. My Lord

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

Othe. Mistris

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.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

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