Imatges de pàgina
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Iago. I told him what I thought ; and cold no more Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Æmil. But did you ever tell him, she was falfe?
Iago. I did.

Æmil. You told a lie; an odious damned lie :
Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie.
She false with Casio ? did you say with Casio ?

Iago. With Casio, mistress ; go to, charm your tongy

Æmil. I will not charm my tongue; I'm bound to fpear My mistress lyes here murther'd in her bed. a

Tago. What, are you mad ? I charge you get you hore

Æmil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak; 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now: Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go home. Olb. Oh! oh! oh!

(Othello falls on the bed.
Æmil. Nay, lay thee down and roar :
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.

Oib. Oh she was foul !
I scarce did know you, uncle; there lyes your niece,

[Rifing Whofe breath indeed these hands have newly ftop'd ; I know this act thews 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 desp'rate turn ;
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Otb.
(a) - murther'd in her bed."
All. Oh heav'ns forefend !
Æmil. And

your reports have set the murther on,
Orb. Nay, itare not, masters, it is true indeed,
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.
Mon. Oh monstrous act !

Æmil. Villainy! villainy! villainy!
I think upon't — I think - I smeil't - Oh villainy!
I thought so then ; I'll kill my self for grief;
Oh Villainy, villainy?

Jago. What, are you mad, &c,

2 Oth. 'Tis pitiful ; but yet lago knows,

That she with Casio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed. Casho confest it,

And she did gratifie his amorous works,
= With that, recognizance and pledge of love

Which I first gave; I saw it in his hand :

It was an handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Æmil. Oh heav'n! oh heav'nly powers !
lago. Come, hold your peace.

mil. 'Twill out, 'twill out I peace!
No, I will speak as liberal as the air ;
Let heav'n, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet l'll speak.

Iago. Be wise and get you home.
Æmil. I will not. [Iago offers to stab bis Wife:
Gra. Fie, your sword upon a woman?
Æmil. Oh, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou

speak'st of
I found by fortune, and did give my husband;

For often, with a folemn earneftness,

(More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle;)
He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago. Villainous whore !

Æmil. She give it Cafio? alas, I found it,
And I did give't my husband.

Iago. Filth, thou lieft.

Æmil. By heav'n, I do not; I do not, gentlemen :
Oh murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a wife?

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

Ötb. Are there no stones in heav'n,
But what serve for the thunder? precious villain!

Gra. The woman falls ; sure he hath kill'd his wife.
Æmil

. Ay, ay; oh lay me by my mistress' side.
Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain ; take this weapon,
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor:

Come,

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Come, guard the door without, let him not país,
Bue kili him rather ; I'll after that same villain,
For 'cis a damned Nave. [Exeunt Montano and Gratiago

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Oth. I am not valiant neither ;
But every puny whipster gets my sword.
By why should honour out-live honesty?
Let it go all.

Æmil. What did thy song boad, Lady ?
Hark, canst 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, alas, I die. [Æmilia dies

Oib. I have another weapon in this chamber, It was a sword of Spain, the a Ebro's temper; Oh here it is: uncle, I must come forth.

Gra. within. ] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee deas; Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

Oih. 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?

Oub. Lo! I have a weapon:
A better never did it self sustain
Upon a soldier's thigh. I've seen the day,
That with this little arm, and this good sword,
I made my way through more impediments,
Than twenty times your stop. But, oh vain boast!
Who can controul his fate? 'tis not so now.
Be not afraid, though you do fee me weapond ;

Here

(a) In the firft edition it is (sebroke's temper. Thence corrupted 10 Ice-brooks. Ebro's temper : the waters of that river of Spain ar particularly famous for tempering of feel. The fineft arms in the world, bi Catalonian Fufees. Pope.

Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost fail.
Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a loft fear :
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires. Where should Othello go?
Now - how doft thou look now? oh ill-Itarr'å wench!
Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heav'n,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
Ev’n like thy chasticy, Oh cursed Nave!
Whip me, ye devils,
From the poffeffion of this heav'nly fight;
Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulphur,
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire
Oh Desdemona! Desdemona! dead, dead! oh, oh!

S C E N E X.
Enter Lodovico, Cassio led in wounded, Montano,

and lago prisoner, with Officers.
Lod. Where is this rash and most 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 tow'rds his feet; but that's a fable. If that thou beest a devil, I cannot kill thee.

(Othello wounds Iago, Lod. Wrench his sword from him. lago. * 'I bleed, but am not kill'd.

Oib. I am not sorry neither : I'd have thee live ;
For in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. Oh thou, Othello, that wast once so good,
Fall’n in the practice of a cursed Nave,
What shall be said to thee?

Oth. Why, any thing;
An honourable murth'rer, if you will:
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
Lod. This wretch hath part confelt his villainy :

Did 3 1 bleed, Sir, but not kill'd.

Did you

and he consent in Casio's death? Otb. Ay. Caf. Dear General, I never gave you cause.

Oib. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon : Will you, I pray, demand that demy-devil, Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul 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 best.

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befallin,
Which, as I think, you know not; here's a letter,,
Found in the pocket of the Nain Rodorigo,
And here another ; one of them imports
The death of Casio to be undertook
By Rodorigo.
Otb. Oh villain !
Caf. Most heathenish and most gross!

Lod. Now, here's another discontented paper
Found in his pocket too; and this it seems
Rodorigo meant t' have sent this damned villain ;
But that belikę Iago in the interim
Came in, and satisfy'd him.

Otb. Oh thou pernicious caitiff!
How came you, Caffio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Caf. I found it in my chamber ;
And he himself confeft it but even now,
That there he dropt it for a special purpose,
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth. O fool, fool, fool!

Cal. There is besides, in Rodorigo's letter, How he upbraids Iago that he made him Brave me upon the watch ; whereon it came That I was caft; and even now he fpake After long feeming dead, Iago hurt him, Iago set him on.

Lod.

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