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


Take you this

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. I am not valiant neither,


But every puny whipster gets my sword :-
But why should honor outlive honesty?
Let it go all.

Emi. What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in music :- Willow, willow, willow.'-
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor:
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die,-I die.


Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber; It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper ;- 1 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


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

1 Steel is hardened by being put red-hot into very colu


Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What is the matter?


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 have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your stop.-But, O vain boast!
Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd:
Here is my journey'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 he retires.-Where should Othello go?—

Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd


Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my


Even like thy chastity.

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 !—
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead?

Dead? O! O! O!

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers, with IAGO, prisoner.

Lo. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

Oth. That's he, that was Othello: here I am.
Lo. Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.
Oth. I look down towards his feet; 1-but that's
a fable;

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

[Othello wounds Iago.

Lo. Wrench his sword from him.

I bleed, sir; but not kill'd.
Oth. I am not sorry neither: I'd have thee live;

For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lo. O thou Othello, that was once so good,

Fallen in the practice 2 of a cursed slave ;-
What shall be said to thee?


Why, any thing: An honorable murderer, if you will;

For naught I did in hate, but all in honor.

Lo. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany.— Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Oth. Ay.

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,

1 i. e. to see if his feet be cloven.

2 By the stratagem.

Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know,


From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lo. What? not to pray ?


Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Lo. Sir, you shall understand what hath befallen, Which, as I think, you know not: here is a letter, Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;

And here another: the one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook

By Roderigo.

Oth. O villain!


Most heathenish, and most gross!

Lo. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain; But that, belike, Iago in the interim

Came in and satisfied him.

[blocks in formation]

And he himself confess'd, but even now,

That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose,
Which wrought to his desire.

O fool! fool! fool!

Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,-
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came

That I was cast: and even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead,-Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Your power and your

with us:

Lo. You must forsake this room, and go
command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,-
If there be any cunning cruelty,

That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his you shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian state.-Come, bring him away.
Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go.

I have done the state some service, and they know it;

No more of that.—I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,

Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,

Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak

Of one, that loved not wisely, but too well;
Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand,
Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away

Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued


Albeit unused to the melting mood,

Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum: set you down this:
And say, besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian, and traduced the state,

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