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To come in to the cry, without more help.
Rod. Nobody come ? then shall I bleed to death.
Enter Iago, with a light. Lod. Hark! Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light
and weapons. lago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that
cries on murder? Lod. We do not know. lago.
Did you not hear a cry? Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. lago.
What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Iago. What are you here that cry so grievously?
Cas. lago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains !
o treacherous villains ! What are you there? come in, and give some help.
[To Lodovico and Gratiana Rod. O, help me here! Cas. That's one of them. lago. . O murderous slave! O villain,
[Iago stabs Roderigo. Rod. O damn'd Iago ! O inhuman dog :0! 0! 0! Iago. Kill men i’the dark ;-Where be these
bloody thieves ?
How is it, brother ?
Marry, heaven forbid ! Light, gentlemen ; I'll bind it with my shirt,
Enter Bianca. Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that
cried ? Jago. Who is't that cried ?
Bian. O my dear Cassio ! my sweet Cazein! O Cassio! Cassio ! Cassio! lago. O notable strumpet !-Cassio, may you
suspect, Who they should be, that have thus mangled
to seek you.
Cassio ! lago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury.Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come; Lend me a light-Know we this face, or no? Alas! my friend ; and my dear countryman, Roderigo? no :-Yes, sure; O heaven! Roderigo Gra. What, of Venice? Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him ? Gra.
Know him? ay. Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon; These bloody accidents must excuse my manners, That so neglected you. Gra.
I am glad to see you. Iago. How do you, Cassio?-0, a chair, a chair! Gra. Roderigo!
lago. He, he, 'tis he :-0, that's well said ;-the chair :
(A chair brought in. Some good man bear him carefully from hence; I'll fetch the general's surgeon.-For you, mistress,
Bianca. Sare you your labour. He that lies slain here,
Cassio, Was my dear friend: What malice was between
you? Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man. lago. (To Bian.] What, look you pale?-0, bear him out o'the air.
(Cassio and Rod. are boxne off. Stay you, good gentlemen :-Look you pale, mis
tress? Do you perceive the ghastness of her eye?Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon :Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her; Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak, Though tongues were out of use.
Iago. Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio
dress'd :Come, mistress, you must tell us another tale.Emilia, run you to the citadel, And tell my lord and lady what has happ'd.Will you go on, I pray?-_-This is the night, (Aside. That either makes me, or fordoesl me quite. (Exe.
SCENE II. - A bed-chamber: Desdemona in bed
asleep. A light burning. Enter Othello.
Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,-
[Takes off his sword.
rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither :-l'll smell it on the tree.
(Kissing her. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword!—One more, one more.-Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after :-One more, and this the last : So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears : This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes, where it doth love. She wakes
Des. Who's there? Othello?
(2) i. e. The light of life.
Ay, Desdemona. Des. Will you come to bed, my lord ? Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona ? Des.
- Ay, my lord. Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime, Unreconciľd as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.
Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?
Des. Talk you of killing?
Ay, I do.
Then, heaven Have mercy on me! Oth.
Amen, with all my heart! Des. If you say so, I hope you will not hill me. Oth. Humph!
D's. And yet I fear you : for you are frtal then, When your eyes roll so : Why I should fear, I know
not, Since guiltiness I know not; but yet, I feel, I fear.
Oth. Think on thy sins.
They are loves I bear to you. Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest.
Des. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame: These are portents; but yet, I hope, I hope, They do not point on me. Oih.
Peace, and be still. Des. I will so: What's the matter? Oth. That handkerchief, which I so lov'd, and
gave thee, Thou gav'st to Cassio.
No, by my life and soul; Send for the man, and ask him.