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I think, it doth : is't frailty, that thus errš ??•*71.5T
Def. Good-night,good-night; heav'n me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad, mend! (Exeunt,
SCENE, a Street before the Palace.
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home; Quick, quick, fear nothing ; I'll be at thy elbow. It makes us, or it marrs us : think on that, And fix most firm thy resolution.
Rod. Be near at hand, I may miscarry in't. lago. Here, at thy hand; be bold and take thy sword.
Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed, Yet he hath giv’n me satisfying reasons ; 'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword; he dies,
(Stands apart. lago. I've rubb'd this young knot almost to the sense, (28)
(28) I've rubbid this young Gnat almost to tbe Senfé,
And be grows angry.] The rubbing a Gnat to Sense, is, I believe, an Experiment that never was communicated even to the Royal Society. The least Frication, on the contrary, would not only rub him out of all Sense, but out of Life into the Bargain. The old Quarto's have it, Quat: a Word, which, I confess, I am absolutely a Stranger to I have ventur'd to conjecture,
I've rubb'd this young Knot, &c. The Krat, or Knot, is a small Bird, plentiful with us, in Lincolnbire and Lancashire : which took its name, as amden says, from
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cafia,
[He runs at Caffio, and wounds binta Caf. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou know'ft. I will make proof of thine. [Fight. Iago cuts Caflio behind in the Leg, and exit.
[Then Rodorigo and Caflio fall. Rod. Oh, I am flain. Caf. I'm maim'd for ever; help, hoa! murder, murder!:
Enter Othello above at a Window. Oth. The voice of Caffio,----logo keeps his word. Rod. Oh, villain that I am! Oth. It is even fo. Caf. Oh, help, ho! light! a furgeon! Oth. 'Tis he! oh brave lago, honest and juft, That haft such noble sense of thy friend's wrong; Thou teacheft me Minion, your
dear lies dead; And your fate hyes apace. Strumpet, I come : From off my heart, those charms, thine eyes, are blotted : Thy bed, luft itain'd shall with luft's blood be spotted.
its being a delicious Morfe) with King Canute, who was likewife called Knout. This bird, being once taken, as Gesner tells us, is above all others tame and tractable. In this respect it lorts wiilr Bodorigo's Character, an easy, manageable,, Cully.
Enter Lodovico and Gratiano, at a distance.) Caf. What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder, murder! Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the voice is very direful. Cal. Oh help! Lod. Hark! Rod. O wretchei villain !
Lod. Two or three groans. It is a heavy night; These
may be counterfeits : let's' think’t unsafe To come into the cry, without more help.
Rod. No body come? then shall I bleed to death.
بها في الان
Enter Iago, in his shirt, with a Light and Sword.
Caj. Iago ? oh I'm spoil'd, undone by villains ! Give me fome help.
Tago. Oh me, lieutenant! what villains have done this?
Cc. I think, that one of them is hereabout ;." ;; And cannot make away.
lags. O treacherous villains ! Whai are you there? come in, and give fome help.
[ To Lod. and Gra. Rod. Oh, help me there. Col. That's one of them. Jago. O murd'rous flave ! oh villain! [Tago ftabs him. Köd. Oh damn’d Iago! oh inhuman dog!
lago.Kill meni'th'dark? where be these bloody thieves? How filent is this town? ho, murder! murder! What may you be ? are you of good or evil?
Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us. lago. Signior Lodovico? Lod. He, Şir. lago. I cry you mercy! Here's Cafio, hurt by villains. Gra. Caffio ? Iago. How is’t, brother ? Caf. My leg is cut in two. lago. Marry, heav'n forbid ! Light, gentlemen, I'll bind it with my thirt.
Bian. Oh my dear Callio,
lago. O notable ftrumpet! Caffio, may you suspect Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?
So-Oh for a chair To bear him easily hence.
Bian. Alas, he faints. Oh Caffio, Cafio, Caffio!
Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this Trash
Gra. What, of Venice?
Iago. Signior Gratiano ? I cry your gentle pardon: Thele bloody accidents must excuse my manners, That fo neglected you.
Gra. I am glad to see you.
lago. He, he, 'tis he: oh, that's well said, the chair. Some good man bea: him carefully from hence ;
I'll fetch the General's surgeon. For you, mistress,
Caf. None in the world ; nor do I know the man.
lago. What, look you pale?--oh, bear him out o'th'air.
Æmil. Alas, what is the matter?
lago. Casio hath there been set on in the dark
Æmil. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cafio !
Iago. This is the fruit of whoringPray, Æmilia,
Bian. He supt at my house, but I therefore shake not,
& mil. Oh fy upon thee, ftrumpet!
[Exeunt, Iago following.