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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!

Iago. 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.
Iago. Be wise, and get you home.
Emil. I will not.

Gra. Fie!

[IAGO offers to stab his Wife.

Your sword upon a woman?

Emil. O thou 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, belonged to such a trifle), He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago. Villanous whore !

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

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. Take you this weapon,
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor.

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out.

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 MONTANÓ 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?
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; †-
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.

* Free.


† Hardened by being put red-hot into very cold water.

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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 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 wench!
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 girl?
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 LAGO, 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; +-but that's a fable:
If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.


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

Lod. O thou Othello, that was once so good,
Fallen in the practice of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

Oth. Why, anything:

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:
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,
Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?

* Account.

† To see if his feet be cloven.

By the stratagem.

Iago. 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,
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 !

Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross!

Lod. 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.

Oth. O the pernicious caitiff!

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

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

Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,—
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me on 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.

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us;
Your power and your 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 Indian, threw a pearl away,

Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued eyes,
Albeit unused to the melting mood,

Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees

Their medicínal 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,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him-thus.

[Stabs himself.

Lod. O bloody period!

Gra. All, that's spoke, is marr'd.

Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee;-No way but this. [Falling upon DESDEMONA.


Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; For he was great of heart.

Lod. O Spartan dog,

More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
This is thy work: the object poisons sight;-
Let it be hid.-Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed to you.-To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure* of this hellish villain;
The time, the place, the torture,-O enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard; and, to the state,
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.

* Judgment.



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