Imagens das páginas


A Street.


Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come:

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home;
Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:
It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.


Jago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy [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 82 almost to the


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

Every way makes my gain: Live Roderigo,
He calls me to a restitution large

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.


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 indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st; I will make proof of thine.


[Draws, and wounds Roderigo. O, I am slain!

[Iago rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind in the leg, and exit.

Cas. I am maim'd for ever:-Help, ho! murder!


Enter OTHELLO, at a distance.


Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his word. Rod. O, villain that I am!


Hark! 'tis even so. Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon!

Oth. 'Tis he;-O brave Iago, honest, and just, That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong! Thou teachest me,-Minion, your dear lies dead, And your fate hies apace:-Strumpet, I come: Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;

Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted. [Exit Othello.

Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO, at a distance.

Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder!


Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very
Cas. O, help!




O wretched villain!


Lod. Two or three groans;-it is a heavy night: These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe To come in to the cry, without more help.

Rod. No body come? then shall I bleed to death. Enter IAGO, with a light.

Lod. Hark!

Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and


Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder?

Lod. We do not know.


Did you not hear a cry?

What's the matter?

Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. Iago. Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Iago. What are you here, that cry so grievously? Cas. Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help.

Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this? Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout,

And cannot make away.


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What are you there? come in, and give some help. [To Lodovico and Gratiano.

Rod. O, help me here!

Cas. That's one of them.


O murderous slave! O villain!

[Iago stabs Roderigo.

Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!— O! O! O!

Iago. Kill men i'the dark!-Where be these bloody thieves?

How silent is this town!-Ho! murder! murder!

What may you be? are you of good, or evil?

Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.


Signior Lodovico?

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Marry, heaven forbid!

Cas. My leg is cut in two.

Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.


Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that cry'd?

Iago. Who is't that cry'd?

Bian. O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio!

O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio!

Iago. O notable strumpet!-Cassio, may you sus


Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?
Cas. No.

Gra. I am sorry, to find you thus: I have been to seek you.

Iago. Lend me a garter: So.-O, for a chair,

To bear him easily hence!

Bian. Alas, he faints:-O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio!
Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
To be a party in this injury.—

Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come;
Lend me a light.-Know we this face, or no?
Alas! my friend, and my dear countryman,
Roderigo? no:-Yes, sure;-O heaven! Roderigo.
Gra. What, of Venice?

Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him?


Know him? ay.

Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon; These bloody accidents must excuse my manners, That so neglected you.


I am glad to see you.

Iago. How do you, Cassio?-O, a chair, a chair!

Gra. Roderigo!

Iago. He, he, 'tis he:-O, that's well said;-the


[A chair brought in.

Some good man bear him carefully from hence;

I'll fetch the general's surgeon.-For you, mistress, [To Bianca.

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