Imatges de pÓgina


Oth. If you bethink your self of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heav'n, and grace,
Solicit for it straight.

Def. Alack, my Lord,
What may you mean by that?

Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit,
No, heav'ns fore-fend, I would not kill thy soul.

Def. Talk you of killing?
Oih. Ay, I do.
Des. Then heav'n have mercy on me!
Orh. Amen, with all my heart !
Dej. If you say lo, I hope you will not kill me.
Oih. Hum.

. And yet I fear you: for you're fatal then,
When your eyes rowl so. Why I should fear I know not,
Since guilt I know not: yet I feel I fear.

Oth. Think on thy sins.
Des. They're loves I bear to you.
0:b. Ay, and for that thou dy'st.

Def. That death's unnatural ; ?/what! kill for loving!
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion fhakes your very frame ;
These are portents : but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Olb, Peace, and be ftill.
Def. I will fo : what's the matter?

Oib. That handkerchief
Which I so lov’d, and gave thee, thou gav'st Casho.

Def. No, by my life and soul : send for the man,
And ask him.

Oih. Sweet foul, take heed, take heed of perjury,
Thou art on thy death-bed.

Def. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oib. ''Yes, presently.'
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin :
For to deny cach article with oath,

Cannor 8 Presently;


7 that kills.

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Cannot remove, nor choak, the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Def. Oh, heav'n have mercy on me!
Oib. I say, amen!

Def. And have you mercy too! I never did
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Casio,
But with such general warranty of heav'n,
As I might love. I never gave him token.

Oth. By heav'n, I saw my handkerchief in's hand,
Oh perjur'd woman ! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st me call, what I intend to do,
A murther, which I thought a facrifice.
I saw the handkerchief.

Def. He found it then
I never gave it him ; fend for him hither,
Let him confess a truth.

Oth. He hath confeft.
Def. What, my Lord ?
Oth. That he hathus'd thee
Def. How ? unlawfully?
Otb. Ay.
Des. He will not say so.

Oih. No, his mouth is stopp'd ;
Honest lago hath ta'en order for’t.

Def. My fear 9 'interprets. Oh! what,' is he dead?

Oth. Hád all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had stomach for them all.

Def. Alas, he is betray'd, and I'm undone.
Oib. Out, strumpet ! 'weep'st thou for him to my face?
Def. Oh banish me, my Lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Down, strumpet.
Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.
Oth. Nay, if you strive
Def. But half an hour but while I say one prayer.
Oib. It is too late,

[Smothers ber.

SCENE. (a) Des. But half an hour Oth. Being done, there is no pause. Def. But while I say one prayer. . interprets then What, il

So, fo.

Æmilia at the door.

(my Lord! Æmil. My Lord! my Lord! what hoa! my Lord,

Otb. What noise is this? not dead? not yet quite dead?
I that am cruel, am yet merciful,
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.

Æmil. What hoa ! my Lord, my Lord !
Otb. Who's there?

[you. Æmil

. Oh, my good Lord, I would speak a word with Otb. Yes, 'tis Æmilia —by and by — she's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Casio's death ; The noise was high. Ha, no more moving? Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were't good ? I think she stirs again Now what's the best? If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife ; My wife ! my wife! what wife ? I have no wife. Oh insupportable ! oh heavy hour! Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse Of fun and moon, and that the affrighted globe Should yawn at alteration

Æmil. I beseech you
That I may speak with you. Oh, good my Lord ! -

Olb. I had forgot thee ; oh come in, Æmilia.
Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw.
Where art thou what's the matter with thee now?

[Unlocks the door.
Enter Æmilia.
Æmil. Oh, my good Lord, yonder's foul murthers donc,
Orb. What? now?
Æmil. But now, my Lord.

Otb. It is the very error of the moon,
She comes more near the earth than she was wont,
And makes men mad.

Æmil. Caffio, my Lord, hath kill'd
A young Venetian, callid Roderigo.


Oth. Rodorigo kill'd ? and Casio kill'd ?
Æmil. No, Casio is not kill'd.

Oıb. Not Casio kill'd ? then murther's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh.

Def. On falsely, falfely murther'd!
Æmil. Alas ! what cry is that?
Oth. That? what?

Æmil. Out and alas, that was my Lady's voice.
Help! help, hoa! help! oh Lady, speak again ;
Sweet Desdemona, oh sweet mistress, speak.

Def. A guildless death I die.
Æmil. Oh who hath done this deed ?

Def. No body, I my self, farewel ;
Commend me to my kind Lord; oh farewel ! (Dia.

Olb. Why, how should she be murther'd ?
Æmil. Alas! who knows?
Oth. You heard her fay her felf, it was not I.
Æmil. She said so, I must needs report the truth.

Oth. She's like a liar gone to burning hell, 'Twas I that kill'd her.

Æmil. Qh the more angel fhe, and you the blacker
Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore.
Æmil. Thou doft belie her, and thou art a devil.
Oıb. She was false as water.

Æmil. Thou art rash as fire, to say
That she was false. Oh she was heav'nly true.

Oth, Casio did tup her ; ask thy husband else.
Oh, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell.
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.

Æmil. My husband!
Oih. Thy husband.
Æinil. That she was false to wedlock?

Oth. Ay, with Cafio : had she been true,
If heav'n would make me such another world,
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite,
I'd not have sold her for it.
Emil. My husband !

Otb. Ay, 'twas he that told me first ; ; In honeft man he is, and hates the nime That sticks on filthy deeds.

Æmil. My husband!.

Otb. What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.

Æmil. Oh mistress! villainy has made mocks with love. My husband say she was false !

Oth. He, woman ;
I say thy husband; doft understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.

Æmil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a-day! he lies to th' heart.
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.

Otb. Hah!

Æmil. Do thy worst :
This deed of thine is no more worthy heav'n,
Than thou wast worthy her.

Otb. Peace, you were best.

Æmil. Thou hast not half that power to do me harm As I have to a 'bear' hurt : oh gull ! oh dolc ! As ignorant as dirt ; thou'st done a deed I care noc for thy sword, I'll make thee known, Though I lost twenty lives — Help! help, hoa! help! The Moor hath killd my mistress. Murther, murther!

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Enter Montano, Gratiano, lago, and others.
Mor. What is the matter? how now, General ?

Æmil. Oh, are you come, Iago ? you have done well,
That men must lay their murthers on your neck.

Gra. What is the matter?

Æmil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man ;
He says thou told'st him that his wife was false:
I know thou didst not, thou're not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full,


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