And her affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such dame be trusted!
Mrs. Pet.—Ha! this is more than I can brook; my tongue’s my own to wag it as I will, therefore attempt not to criticise my criticisms——I repeat, the fellow sings like a Scandinavian bag-pipe.
Helena.—Ladies, pray be still! He may hear your dreadful comments.
[Knock heard at door.]
’Tis he!
Mrs. Othello.—Let him not in until I depart! If Mr. Othello should happen to step in and find me in company with this gallant youth his jealousy would know no bounds!
[Knock repeated.]
Mrs. Pet.—Nonsense! I hope he does come, I’d like to give him my opinion of jealous husbands—
Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine