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
Othe. Nor send you out o'th' way?
Aemil. Neuer
Othe. To fetch her Fan, her Gloues, her Mask, nor nothing?
Aemil. Neuer my Lord
Othe. That's strange.
Aemil. I durst (my Lord) to wager, she is honest:
Lay downe my Soule at stake: If you thinke other,
Remoue your thought. It doth abuse your bosome:
If any wretch haue put this in your head,
Let Heauen requit it with the Serpents curse,
For if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There's no man happy. The purest of their Wiues
Is foule as Slander
Othe. Bid her come hither: go.
Exit aemilia.
She saies enough: yet she's a simple Baud
That cannot say as much. This is a subtile Whore:
A Closset Locke and Key of Villanous Secrets,
And yet she'le kneele, and pray: I haue seene her do't.
Enter Desdemona, and aemilia.
Des. My Lord, what is your will?
Othe. Pray you Chucke come hither