And she died singing it: That song, to-night,
Will not go from my mind; I have much to do,
But to go hang my head all at one side,

And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee des-
patch.

Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
Des. No, unpin me here.-
This Lodovico is a proper man.
Emil. A very handsome man.
Des. And he speaks well.

Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walked barefoot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip.

1.

Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,

Sing all a green willow;

[Singing. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,

Sing willow, willow, willow:

Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many

To the vantage, as would store the world they
play'd for.

But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults,
If wives do fall: Say, that they slack their
duties,

And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or, say, they
strike us,

Or scant our former having in despite :
Why, we have galls; and, though we have some
grace,

Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know,
Their wives have sense like them: they see,
and smell,
And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is; And doth affection breed it?
I think, it doth. Is't frailty, that thus errs?
It is so too: And have not we affections ?

The fresh streams ran by her, and mur- Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have?

mur'd her moans;

Sing willow, &c.

Then, let them use us well: else, let them know,

Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd The ills we do, their ills instruct us to.

the stones;

Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,

Nay, that's not next.-Hark! who is it that knocks?

Emil. It is the wind.

Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such usage send,

Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! [Exeunt.

Wear thy good rapier bare, ‡ and put it home; Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:

Des. I call'd my love, false love; but what It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,

said he then?

Sing willow, &c.

If I court mo⚫ women, you'll couch with

mo men.

So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do
Doth that bode weeping?

Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there.

[itch;

Des. I have heard it said so.-O these men,
these men !
[lia,-

Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emi-
That there be women who abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?

Emil. There be some such, no question.

And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. Iago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy sword.

[Retires to a little distance.
Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed;
And yet he has given me satisfying reasons :—
'Tis but a man gone :-forth, my sword; he dies.
[Goes to his stand.
Iago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to
the sense,

And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cas-
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,

Des. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the Every way makes my gair: Live Roderigo, world?

Emil. Why, would not you?

Des. No, by this heavenly light!

Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light;

I might do't as well i'the dark.

Des. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'Tis a For a small vice. [great price Des. Good troth, I think thou wouldst not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,-Why, who would not make her busband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.

Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such woman.

• Mo for more.

He calls me to a restitution large

[sio,

Of gold and jewels, that I bobb'd || from him,
As gifts to Desdemona;

It must not be. If Cassio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life,
That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him; there stand I in much
peril :

No, he must die :-But so, I hear him coming.
Enter CASSIO.

Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he ;-Villain, thou
diest.

[Rushes from his post, and makes a pass at CASSIO.

Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy in

Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that That either makes me, or fordoes me quite. cried ?

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

When I have

It needs must wither: I'll smell it on the tree.

[Kissing her.

O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword!-One more, one

Oth. Ay, Desdemona.

Des. Will you come to bed, my lord?

Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
Des. Ay, my lord.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime,
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.

Des. Alas, 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,-Heaven forfend! I would

not kill thy

Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill

Des. That death's unnatural, that kills for My wife! my wife! what wife -I have no

Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame :
These are portents; but yet I nope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Cth. Peace and be still!

Des. I will so: What's the matter?

Oth. That bandkerchief, which I so lov'd, and gave thee,

Thou gav'st to Cassio.

Des. No, by my life and soul; Send for the man, and ask him. Oth. Sweet soul, take heed,

This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,

Oth. I had forgot thee: O come in, Emi-Than thou wast worthy her.

OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

And she did gratify his amorous works
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her: I saw it in his hand;
It was a handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers!
Jago. Come, hold your peace.

Emil. Twill out, 'twill out ;-I hold my peace,
Sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal as the air;

Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. lago. Be wise, and get you home.

Emil. I will not.

Gra. Fie!

Your sword upon a woman?

231

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd
Here is my jouruey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And be retires :-Where should Othello go?-
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr d
wench!

Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at
'ven,
compt

This look of thine will burl my soul from hea-
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, mv
girl?

Even like thy chastity.

[IAGO offers to stab his Wife. O cursed, cursed slave !-Whip me ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur !
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire I-
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!
Dead? O! 01 01

Emil. O thon dull Moor! that handkerchief
thou speak'st of,

I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
For often with a solemn earnestness,
(More than indeed beloug'd to such a trifle,)
He begg'd of me to steal it.

lago. Villanous whore!

Emil. She gave it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did giv't my husband.

Jago. Filth, thou liest.

Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen :

O murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a

fool

Do with so good a wife?

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. Oth. Are there no stones in heaven But what serve for the thunder? - Precious

villain!

Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has kill'd his wife.

Emil. Ay, ay; O lay me by my mistress'
side!

Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.
Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain.

weapon,

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO, carried in a Chair, and Officers with IAGO prisoner. 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 towards his feet; t—but
that's a fable:

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.
[OTHELIO wounds Iago.
Lod. Wrench his sword from him.
Iago. I bleed, Sir; but not kill'd.
Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee
live;

Lod. O thou Othello, that wast once so good,
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.
What shall be said to thee?
Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave,
Oth. Why, any thing.

Take you this An honourable murderer, if you will;
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.
Lod. This wretch hath in part confess'd his
villany:

Which I have here recover'd from the Moor:
Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,
But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain,
For 'tis a damned slave.

[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO.
Oth. I am not valiant neither.
But every puny whipster gets my sword :-
But why should honour outlive honesty ?
Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?
I will play the
Hark, canst thou hear me?

swan,

And die in music ;-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, I die, I die.

[Dies.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's tempert

O here it is :-Uncle, I must come forth,
Gra. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will
Cost thee dear;

Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with
me,

Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee,

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What's the matter?

Oth. Behold! I have a weapon;

A better never did itself sustain

Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
That with this little arm, and this good sword,
I bave made my way through more impedi-
ments

Than twenty times your stop :-But, O vain
boast!

Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.

+ Steel is hardened by being put red• Freely. bet into very cold water

Oth. Ay.
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause.
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
Will you, I pray you demand that demi-devil,
Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body?
Jago. 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
befall'n,

Which, as I think, you know not: Here is a
letter,

And here, another the one of them imports
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo,
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Roderigo.

But that belike, Iago in the interim

Came in and satisfied him.

Oth. O the pernicious caitiff!—

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Cas. I found it in my chamber:
That there be dropp'd it, for a special purpose
And he himself confess'd, but even now
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth. O fool! fool! fool !

Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,• Account.

To see if his feet oe c.oven. t By the stratagem