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If heav'n would make me fuch another world,
I'd not have fold her for it.
Emil. My husband!
Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first;
An honeft man he is, and hates the flime
Emil. My husband!
Oth. What needs this iteration, woman? I fay, thy husband.
Emil. Oh miftrefs! villainy has made mocks with love. My husband fay, she was falfe!
Oth. He, woman;
I fay, thy husband; do'ft understand the word ?
Emil. Do thy worst:
This deed of thine is no more worthy heav'n,
Oth. Peace, you were best.
Emil. Thou haft not half that power to do me harm, As I have to be hurt: oh gull! oh dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! thou't done a deed
I care not for thy fword, I'll make thee known, Though I lost twenty lives-Help! help, hoa! help! The Moor hath kill'd my mistress. Murder, murder!
Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others.
Mon. What is the matter? how now, General? 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'ft a man ; He fays, thou toldst him that his wife was falfe : I know, thou didst not; thou'rt not fuch 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, she was false?
Emil. You told a lye; an odious, damned, lye:
She falfe with Caffio? did you fay, with Caffio?
All. Oh heavens forefend !
Emil. And your reports have fet the murder on.
Mon. Oh monftrous act!
Emil. Villainy! villainy! villainy!
I think upon't-I think-I fmell't-Oh villainy!
Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home. Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to fpeak; 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now :
Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.
Oth. Oh! oh! oh!
[Othello falls on the bed.
Emil. Nay, lay thee down and roar: For thou haft kill'd the fweeteft innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.
Oth. Oh, the was foul!
I scarce did know you, uncle; there lies your niece, Whofe breath, indeed, thefe hands have newly ftopp'd; I know, this act fhews horrible and grim.
Gra. Poor Desdemona? I'm glad, thy father's dead :
Oth. "Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows,
And fhe did gratify his amorous works,
Emil. Oh heav'n! oh heav'nly powers!
Emil. Twill out, 'twill out-I, peace!
Let heav'n, and men, and devils, let them all,
Emil. I will not.
[Iago offers to ftab his wife.
Gra. Fy, your fword upon a woman?
Emil. Oh, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief, thou
I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
(More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,)
Iago. Villainous whore!
Emil. She give it Caffio? alas, I found it, And I did giv't my husband.
lago. Filth, 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?
[Iago breaks through and wounds his wife, then
Oth. Are there no ftones in heav'n,
But what ferve for the thunder? precious villain!
Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain; take this weapon,
Oth. I am not valiant neither;
But every puny whipfter gets my fword.
Emil. What did thy fong bode, lady?
Gra. within.] If thou attempt it, it will coft thee dear; Thou haft no weapon, and perforce must fuffer. Oth. Look in upon me then, and fpeak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will affault thee.
Gra. What is the matter?
A better never did itself fuftain
Upon a foldier's thigh. I've feen the day,
how doft thou look now? oh ill-starr'd wench!
Whip me, ye devils,
From the poffeffion of this heav'nly fight;
Blow me about in winds, roaft me in fulphur,
Lod. Where is this rafh and most unfortunate man?
[Othello wounds Iago. Lod.' Wrench his fword from him.
Iago. I bleed, Sir, but not kill'd.
Oth. I am not forry, neither: I'd have thee live; For, in my fenfe, 'tis happiness to die.
Lod. Oh thou, Othello, that waft once fo good,
Oth. Why, any thing;
An honourable murd'rer, if you will:
Caf. Dear General, I never gave you caufe.
Gra. Torments will ope your lips.
Oth. Well, thou dost best.
Lod. Sir, you fhall understand what hath befall'n. Which, as I think, you know not; here's a letter, Found in the pocket of the flain Rodorigo,
And, here, another; one of them imports
The death of Caffio to be undertook