[Sings.]
Sing all a green willow must be my garland.
Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,—
Nay, that’s not next. Hark! who is’t that knocks?
EMILIA.
It’s the wind.
DESDEMONA.
[Sings.]
I call’d my love false love; but what said he then?
Sing willow, willow, willow:
If I court mo women, you’ll couch with mo men.
So get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch;
Doth that bode weeping?
EMILIA.
’Tis neither here nor there.
DESDEMONA.
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?
EMILIA.
There be some such, no question.
DESDEMONA.
Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?
EMILIA.
Why, would not you?