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O villainy, villainy!

Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get

you home.

Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to

speak; 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now:Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go

home. Oth. O! O! O! [Hanging over his Wife. Emil.

Nay, lay thee down, and roar ; For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, That e'er did lift up eye. Oth.

O, she was foul !

[Rising I scarce did know you, uncle : There lies your

niece, Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly

stopp'd : I know, this act shows horrible and grim. Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's

Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows,
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:
And she did gratify his amorous works
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand;
It was a handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.
Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers !

Come, hold your peace. Emil

. 'Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace,


sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal as the air;
Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.

lago. Be wise, and get you home.

I will not.

[Iago offers to stab his Wife. Gra.

Fye! Your sword upon a woman? Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou

speak'st of, I found by fortune, and did give my husband; For often, with a solemn earnestness, (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle;) He begg'd of me to steal it. Iago.

Villainous whore! Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did give't my husband. Iago.

Filth, thou liest. Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen: O murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool Do with so good a wife?

[Iago stabs Emilia, then runs out. Oth.

Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder?—Precious villain !

Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has kill'd his wife.
Emil. Ay, ay; O, lay me by my mistress' side!
Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this

weapon, Which I have here recover'd from the Moor: Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,

. No, I will speak as liberal -] Liberal is free, under no control. s Are there no stones in heaven,

But what serve for the thunder?] Shakspeare might mean, does heaven reserve its thunder only to make a noise? has it no implements of mischief to punish as well as terrify?

But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain,
For 'tis a dainned slave.

[Exeunt Montano and GRATIANO. Oth.

I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets my sword:But why should honour outlive honesty ? Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? Hark, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in musick ;-Willow, willow, willow.Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor; So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true; So speaking as I think, I die,- i die. [Dies.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper;" — O, here it is:-Uncle, I must come forth. Gra. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost

thee dear; Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What is the matter?

Behold! I have a weapon;
A better never did itself sustain
Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
That, with this little arm, and this good sword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your stop:-But, o vain boast !
Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.-


the ice-brook's temper;] This ice-brook was the brook or rirulet called Salo (now Xalon,) near Bilbilis in Celtiberia. In this the Spaniards plunged all their swords and other weapons while hot from the forge; and to the icy qualities of the waters, they were indebted for their stubborn temper.

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapond;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires ;– Where should Othello go?-
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
Even like thy chastity.-
O cursed, cursed slave!_Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead?
Dead? O! O! O!

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, Cassio, carried in a

Chair, and Officers, with Iago, prisoner. Lod. Where is this rash and inost unfortunate

man ! Oth. That's he, that was Othello; here I am. Lod. Where is that viper? bring the villain forth. Oth. I look down towards his feet;"_but that's

a fable: If that thou be’st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

COTHELLO wounds IAGO. Lod. Wrench his sword from him. Iago.

I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live; For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. O'thou Othello, that was once so good,

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towards his feet;] To see if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven.

Fall'n in the practiceo of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

Why, any thing:
An honourable murderer, if you will;
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy: Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Oih. Ay.
Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause.

Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

you, I pray you, demand that demi-devil, Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body? lago. Deinand me

me nothing: What you know,

you know:

From this time forth I never will speak word.

Lod. What? not to pray?

Torments will ope your lips.
Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall’n,
Which, as I think, you know not: Here is a letter,
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
And here, another: the one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Roderigo.

Oth. O villain!

Most heathenish, and most gross!
Lod. Now here's another discontented paper,
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
But that, belike, Iago in the interim
Came in and satisfied him.

O the pernicious caitiff !How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief That was my wife's? Cas.

I found it in my chamber:


in the practice -] In the snare, by the stratagem.

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