Emil. Oh, are you come, Iago? you have done: well,

That men muft lay their murders on your neck.
Gra. What is the matter?

Emil. Difprove this, villain, if thou be'st a man;
He fays thou toldeft him that his wife was falfe:
I know thou didst not; thou'rt not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no

more

Than what he found himself was apt and true. Emil. But did you ever tell him fhe was falfe?· Iago. I did.

Emil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie: Upon my foul, a lie; a wicked lie,

She falfe with Caffio? did you fay, with Caffio? Iago. With Caffio, mistress; go to, charm your

tongue.

Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I'm bound: to speak;

My miftrefs lyes here murdered on her bed..

All. Oh Heavens forfend!

Emil. And your reports have fet the murder on. Oth. Nay, ftare not, masters; it is true, indeed. Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.

Mon. Oh monftrous act!

Emil. Villainy villainy! villainy!

I think upon't---I think---I imell't--ch villainy !
I thought fo then; I'll kill myfelf for grief;-
Oh villainy, villainy!

lago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.

Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now:

Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go home.

[fpeak:

Oth. Oh, oh, oh! [Othello falls on the Bed.

Emil. Nay, lay thee down and roar: For thou haft killed the fweetest innocent That e'er did lift up eye.

Oth. Oh, the was foul !

[Rifing.

I scarce did know you, uncle; there lyes your niece, Whofe breath indeed thefe hands have newly ftopped..

I know this act fhews horrible and grim..

Gra. Poor Desdemona! I'm glad thy father's
dead:

Thy match was mortal to him; and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain. Did he live now,,
This fight would make him do a desperate turn;.
Yea, curfe his better angel from his fide,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows,
That the with,Caffio had the act of thame
A thoufand times committed. Caflio confefs'd it;
And fhe did gratify his amorous works,
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her; I faw it in his hand;
It was an handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Emil. Oh Heav'n! oh heav'nly powers!
Jago. Come, hold your peace.

Emil. Twill out, 'twill out !---I,

peace! No, I will fpeak as liberal as the air r;

Let Heaven, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all cry fhome against me, yet I'll fpeak.
Iago. Be wife, and get you home.

Emil. I will not. [lago offers to ftab his Wife.
Gra. Fy, your fword upon a woman?

Emil. Ch, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief
thou fpeakeit of,

I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
For often, with a folemn earneftneis,

(More than, indeed, belonged to fuch a trifle) He begged of me to fteal it.

lago. Villainous whore!

Emil. She gave it Caffio? alas, I found it, And I did give't my husband.

, lago. Fiith, thou lieft..

Emil. By Heav'n, I do not; I'do not, gentlemen:: Oh murd'rous coxcomb! what should fuch a fool Do with fo good a wife?

[lago breaks through and wounds his Wife, then runs out.

Oth. Are there no ftones in heaven

But what ferve for the thunder? precious villain ! Gra. The woman falls; fure, he has killed his wife.

Emil Ay, ay; oh, lay me by my mistrefs' fide.Gra. He's gone, but his wife is killed.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain; take this weapon, Which I have here recovered from the Moor: Come, guard the door without, let him not pass,But kill him rather; I'll after that fame villain, For 'tis a damned flave. [Exeunt Mon, and Gra.

Oth. I am not valiant neither;
But every puny whipfter gets my fword..
But why thould honour outlive honesty?
Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy fong bode, Lady?
Hark, canft thou hear me? I will play the fwan,-
And die in mufic;" Willow, willow, willow”---
Moor, fhe was chafte; fhe loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my foul to blifs as I fpeak true;

So fpeaking as I think, alas, I die. [Æmilia diese
Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber,
It was a fword of Spain, the Ebro's-temper;
Oh, here it is: Uncle, I must come forth.

Gra. within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear;

Thou haft no weapon, and perforce must fuffer. Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will affault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO..

Gra. What is the matter?

Oth. Lo! I have a weapon:
A better never did itfelf sustain

Upon a foldier's thigh. I've feen the day,
That with this little arm, and this good fword,
I've made my way thro' more impediments,
Than twenty times your ftop. But, oh vain boast!
Who can controul his fate? 'tis not fo now.
Be not afraid, tho' you do fee me weaponed;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
The very fea-mark of my utmost fail.

Do you go

back difmayed? 'tis a loft fear:. Man but a rush againft Othello's breast, And he retires. Where fhould Othello go? Now-how doft thou look now? oh, ill-ftarred wench!

Pale as thy fmock! When we fhall meet at compt,.
This look of thine will hurl my foul from heaven,.
And fiends will fnatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
Even like thy chastity. O cursed slave!
Whip me, ye devils!

From the poffeffion of this heavenly fight;
Blow me about in winds, roaft me in fulphur,
Wafh me in fteep-down gulphs of liquid fire-
Oh Defdemona! Defdemona! dead, dead! oh! oh!
Enter LODOVICO, CASSIO led in wounded, MONTA
* NÓ, and IAGO prifoner, with Officers.

Lod. Where is this rafh and moft unfortunate,

man?

Qih. 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. (54).

If that thou be'it a devil, I cannot kill thee.

[Othello wounds Iago.

Lod. Wrench his fword from him.

Iago. I bleed, Sir, but not killed..

Oth. I am not forry neither: I'd have thee live; For, in my fenfe, 'tis happiness to die.

Led. Oh thou, Othello, that walt once fo good, Pall'n in the practice of a curfed flave, What fhall be faid to thee?

Oth. Why, any thing;

An honourable murderer, if you will:
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
Lod. This wretch hath part confefs'd his villainy:
Did you and he confent in Caffio s death?

Oth. Ay.

Caf. Dear General, I never gave you cause..
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon :
Will you, I. pray, demand that demi-devil,
Why he hath thus enfnared my foul and body?
Lago. Demand me nothing; what you know, you
know;

From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lod. What, not to pray?

Gra. Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou dost beft..

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,

(54) I look down towards his feet: but that's a fable:] I won't pretend to affirm but Ben Johnfon feems to me to be fneer ing at Shakespeare, for hinting at a notion, inculcated, by the foppery of painters, and fuperftition of zealots into the ulgar, that the Devil has cloven fect.

I looked of your feet afore, you cannot cozen me;
Your shoe's not cloven, Sir, you are whole hoofed.

Devil's an Afs.