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Another Room in the Castle. | |
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Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Attendants. | |
| Lod. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further. | |
| Oth. O! pardon me; ’twill do me good to walk. | |
| Lod. Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship. | 5 |
| Des. Your honour is most welcome. | |
| Oth. Will you walk, sir? | |
| O! Desdemona,— | |
| Des. My lord? | |
| Oth. Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned forthwith; dismiss your attendant there; look it be done. | 10 |
| Des. I will, my lord. [Exeunt OTHELLO, LODOVICO, and Attendants. | |
| Emil. How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did. | |
| Des. He says he will return incontinent; | |
| He hath commanded me to go to bed, | |
| And bade me to dismiss you. | 15 |
| Emil. Dismiss me! | |
| Des. It was his bidding; therefore, good Emilia, | |
| Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu: | |
| We must not now displease him. | |
| Emil. I would you had never seen him. | 20 |
| Des. So would not I; my love doth so approve him, | |
| That even his stubbornness, his checks and frowns,— | |
| Prithee, unpin me,—have grace and favour in them. | |
| Emil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. | |
| Des. All’s one. Good faith! how foolish are our minds! | 25 |
| If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me | |
| In one of those same sheets. | |
| Emil. Come, come, you talk. | |
| Des. My mother had a maid call’d Barbara; | |
| She was in love, and he she lov’d prov’d mad | 30 |
| And did forsake her; she had a song of ‘willow;’ | |
| An old thing ’twas, but it express’d her fortune, | |
| And she died singing it; that song to-night | |
| Will not go from my mind; I have much to do | |
| But to go hang my head all at one side, | 35 |
| And sing it like poor Barbara. Prithee, dispatch. | |
| Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? | |
| Des. No, unpin me here. | |
| This Lodovico is a proper man. | |
| Emil. A very handsome man. | 40 |
| Des. He speaks well. | |
| Emil. I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip. | |
Des. | The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, |
| Sing all a green willow; |
| Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, |
| Sing willow, willow, willow: |
| The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans; |
| Sing willow, willow, willow: |
| Her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;— |
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Lay by these:— | Sing willow, willow, willow: |
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Prithee, hie thee; he’ll come anon.— | Sing all a green willow must be my garland. |
| Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,— |
| 45 |
| Nay, that’s not next. Hark! who is it that knocks? | |
| Emil. It is the wind. | |
Des. | I call’d my love false love; but what said he then? |
| Sing willow, willow, willow: |
| If I court moe women, you’ll couch with moe men. |
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| So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; | |
| Doth that bode weeping? | 50 |
| Emil. ’Tis neither here nor there. | |
| Des. I have heard it said so. O! these men, these men! | |
| Dost thou in conscience think, tell me, Emilia, | |
| That there be women do abuse their husbands | |
| In such gross kind? | 55 |
| Emil. There be some such, no question. | |
| Des. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? | |
| Emil. Why, would not you? | |
| Des. No, by this heavenly light! | |
| Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light; | 60 |
| I might do ’t as well i’ the dark. | |
| Des. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? | |
| Emil. The world is a huge thing; ’tis a great price | |
| For a small vice. | |
| Des. In troth, I think thou wouldst not. | 65 |
| Emil. In troth, I think I should, and undo ’t when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but for the whole world, who would not make her husband a cuckold to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for ’t. | |
| Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong | |
| For the whole world. | |
| Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i’ the world; and having the world for your labour, ’tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. | |
| Des. I do not think there is any such woman. | 70 |
| Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage, as would store the world they played for. | |
| But I do think it is their husbands’ faults | |
| If wives do fall. Say that they slack their duties, | |
| And pour our treasures into foreign laps, | |
| Or else break out in peevish jealousies, | 75 |
| Throwing restraint upon us; or, say they strike us, | |
| Or scant our former having in despite; | |
| Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace, | |
| Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know | |
| Their wives have sense like them; they see and smell, | 80 |
| And have their palates both for sweet and sour, | |
| As husbands have. What is it that they do | |
| When they change us for others? Is it sport? | |
| I think it is; and doth affection breed it? | |
| I think it doth; is ’t frailty that thus errs? | 85 |
| It is so too; and have not we affections, | |
| Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? | |
| Then, let them use us well; else let them know, | |
| The ills we do, their ills instruct us so. | |
| Des. Good night, good night; heaven me such usage send, | 90 |
| Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! [Exeunt. | |
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