He called her “whore”

Emilia
He called her “whore.” A beggar in his drink
Could not have laid such terms upon his callet.
Iago
Why did he so?
Desdemona
I do not know. I am sure I am none such.
Iago
Do not weep, do not weep! Alas the day!
Emilia
Hath she forsook so many noble matches,
Her father and her country and her friends,
To be called “whore”? Would it not make one weep?
Desdemona
It is my wretched fortune.
Iago
Beshrew him for ‘t! How comes this trick upon him?
Desdemona
Nay, heaven doth know.
Emilia
I will be hanged if some eternal villain,
Some busy and insinuating rogue,
Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devised this slander. I will be hanged else.
Iago
Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible.
Desdemona
If any such there be, heaven pardon him.
Emilia
A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones!
Why should he call her “whore”? Who keeps her company?
What place? What time? What form? What likelihood?
The Moor's abused by some most villainous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.
O heaven, that such companions thou ‘dst unfold,
And put in every honest hand a whip
To lash the rascals naked through the world,
Even from the east to th' west!