Scena Tertia.
I do beseech you Sir, trouble your selfe no further.
Oh pardon me: 'twill do me good to walke.
Madam, good night: I humbly thanke your Ladyship.
Your Honour is most welcome.
Will you walke Sir? Oh Desdemona.
My Lord.
Get you to bed on th' instant, I will be re∣turn'd forth with: dismisse your Attendant there: look't be done.
I will my Lord.
How goes it now? He lookes gentler then he did.
Dismisse me?
I, would you had neuer seene him.
I haue laid those Sheetes you bad me on the bed.
Come, come: you talke.
Shall I go fetch your Night-gowne?
A very handsome man.
He speakes well.
I know a Lady in Venice would haue walk'd barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
It's the wind.