Oth. He has confeft.

Def. What, my lord?

Oth. That he hath-uds death.

Def. How, vnlawfully?

Oth. I.

Def. He will not say so.

Oth. No, his mouth is stop'd,

Honeft Iago hath tane order for't.

Def. My feare interprets then,-what is he dead?
Oth. Had all his haires bin liues,

My great reuenge had ftomacke for 'em all.

Def. Alas he is betraid, and I vndone.

Oth. O ftrumpet,-weepest thou for him to my face?
Def. O bannish me, my lord, but kill me not.

Oth. Downe ftrumpet.

Def. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night.

Oth. Nay, an you striue.

Def. But halfe an houre, but while I say one prayer.
Oth. Tis too late.

Def. O Lord, Lord, Lordt.

He ftifles her.

Emillia calls within.

Em. My lord, my lord, what ho, my lord, my lord.

Oth. What voyce is this? not dead? not yet quite dead?

I that am cruell, am yet mercifull,

I would not haue thee linger in thy paine,-fo, fo.

Em. What ho, my lord, my lord.

Oth. Who's there?

Em. O good my lord, I'de fpeake a word with you.

Husde thee.

Oth. Being done there is no poufe..

Def. But while, &c.

Def. &c. &c. omitted.

Oth.

Oth. Yes, tis Emillia, by and by: fhee's dead:
Tis like she comes to fpeake of Caffios death;
The noyfe was here; ha, no more mouing,

Still as the graue: fhall fhe come in? were't good?
I thnike she stirres againe; no, what's the best?
If the come in, fhee'll fure fpeake to my wife.

My wife, my wife, my wife; I ha no wife;
O infupportable: O heavy houre,

Me thinks it should be now a huge ecclips

Of funne and moone, and that the affrighted globe,

Should yawne at alteration.

Em. I doe befeech you I may fpeake with you,-good my lord.

Oth. I had forgot thee: O come in Emillia. Soft, by and by; let me the curtaines draw,

Ent. Emil.

Where art thou? what's the matter with thee now?
Em. O my good lord, yonder's foule murders done.
Oth. What now?

Em. But now my lord.

Oth. It is the very error of the moone,

She comes more neere the earth, then fhe was wont,
And makes men mad.

Em. Caffio my lord has kil'd a yong Venetian,

Cal'd Roderigo.

Oth. Roderigo kild, and Cassie kild?

Em. No, Caffio is not kild.

Oth. Not Caffio kild, then murders out of tune,

And fweete reuenge growes harsh.

Def. O falfly, falfly murdered.

Em. O Lord, what cry is that?

Oth. That? what?

Em. Out and alas, it is my ladyes voyce. Helpe, helpe, ho helpe, O lady fpeake againe, Sweete Desdemona, O fweete mistresse speake. Def. A guiltleffe death I die.

Em. O who has done this deed?

Def. No body, I my felfe, farewell: Commend me to my kinde lord, O farewell.

Oth. Why, how fhould fhe be murdered?
Em. Alas, who knowes?

Otb. You heard her fay, her felfe, it was not I.
Em. She fayd fo, I muft needes report a truth.
Oth. She's like a lyer, gone to burning hell,
'Twas I that kild her.

Em. O the more angell fhe,

And you the blacker diuell.

Oth. She turn'd to folly, and fhe was a whore.
Em. Thou doft bely her, and thou art a diuell.
Oth. She was falfe as water.

Em. Thou as rash as fire,

To fay that fhe was falfe: O fhe was heauenly true.
Oth. Caffio did top her, afke thy husband else,
OI were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed, vpon iuft grounds,
To this extremity, thy husband knew it all.
Em. My hufband?

Oth. Thy husband.

Em. That he was falfe to wedlocke?

Oth. I, with Caffio: nay, had the bin true, If heauen would make me fuch another world,

* Alas. I was.

fbe dies.

Of

Of one intire and perfect crifolite,

I'de not haue fold her for it.

Em. My husband?

Oth. I, twas he that told me first,

An honeft man he is, and hates the flime,

That sticks on filthy deedes.

Em. My husband?

Oth. What needes this iteration? woman, I say thy hufband. **

Em. If he say fo, may his pernitious foule

Rot halfe a graine a day: he lies to'th heart,
She was too fond of her moft filthy bargaine.
Oth. Ha?

Em. Doe thy worst,

This deed of thine is no more worthy heauen,

Then thou waft worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were best.

Em. Thou haft not halfe the power to doe me harme,

As I haue to be hurt: O gull, O dolt,

As ignorant as dirtt; thou haft done a deed

I care not for thy fword, I'le make thee know,

Tho I lost twenty liues: helpe, helpe, O helpe;
The Moore has kild my mistreffe, murder, murder.

Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others.
Mon. What is the matter, how now generall?
Em. O, are you come Iago? you haue done well,
That men must lay their murder on your neck.
All. What is the matter?

• Em. Ob mistres, villainy bath made mockes with love :
My busband fay that she was false ?

Oth. He woman, I fay thy husband; doft understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, boneft, bonest Iago.

VOL. IV

Dd

Em.

Em. Difproue this villaine, if thou bee'ft a man;
He fayes thou toldft him that his wife was falfe,

I know thou didst not, thou art not such a villaine:
Speake, for my heart is full.

lag. I told him what I thought, and told no more, Then what he found himselfe was apt and true.

Em. But did you euer tell him she was false?
Iag. I did.

Em. You told a lie, an odious damned lie;
Vpon my foule, a lie, a wicked lie:

She falfe with Caffio; did you fay with Caffio?

Jag. With Caffio miftreffe; go to, charme your tongue.

Em. I will not charme my tongue, I am bound to fpeake. +

lag. What are you mad, I charge you get you home.

Em. Good gentlemen let me haue leaue to speake,
Tis proper I obey him, but not now:

Perchance lago, I will ne're goe home.
Oth. Oh, oh, oh.

Em. Nay, lay thee downe, and rore, For thou haft kild the sweetest innocent, That ere did lift vp eye.

Oth. O fhe was foule :

Oth. fals on the bed.

I fcarce did know you vncle, there lies your niece,

My mifireffe bere lies murdered in ber bed.

All. Ob beavens forefind.

Em. And your reports have fet the murderer an.

Oth. Nay, fare not mafters, it is true indeed.

Gra. Tis a frangetruth.

Mon. Ob monftrous a&t!

Em. Villainy, villany, villany;

I thinke upen't, I thinke, I smell a villany;
I thought fo then; Ile kill my felfe for griefe,
O villany, villany.

Whole