Hark, how these instruments summon to supper.
The messengers of Venice stay the meat.
Go in, and weep not. All things shall be well.
[Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia.]
Enter Roderigo.
How now, Roderigo?
RODERIGO.
I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.
IAGO.
What in the contrary?
RODERIGO.
Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago, and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.
IAGO.
Will you hear me, Roderigo?
RODERIGO.
Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no kin together.
IAGO.
You charge me most unjustly.