The Works of Shakspeare

To beguile many, and be beguil'd by one ;-
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain

Oth. Lie with her! lie on her!-We say, lie on her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's ulsome.-Handkerchief,-confessions,-handker- From the excess of laughter:-Here he comes :Chief. To confess, and be hanged for his labour. -First, to be hanged, and then to confess :-I Tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion, without some instruction. It is not words, that shake me thus:-Pish !— Noses, ears, and lips-Is it possible?-Con(Falls in a trance.)

fess!-Handkerchief!-O devil!'

Iago. Work on,
My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are
caught;

And many worthy and chaste dames, even thus,
All guiltless meet reproach.-What, ho! my lord!
Enter CASSIO.

My lord, I say! Othello!-How now, Cassio?
Cas. What is the matter?

gone,

Iago. My lord is fallen into an epilepsy;
This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.
Cas. Rub him about the temples.
Iago.
No, forbear:
The lethargy must have his quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth; and, by and by,
Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs :
Do you withdraw yourself a little while,
He will recover straight; when he is
I would on great occasion speak with you.-
[Exit Cassio.
How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?
Oth. Dost thou mock me?
Iago.
I mock you! no, by heaven!
'Would, you would bear your fortunes like a man.
Oth. A horned man's a monster, and a beast.
Iago. There's many a beast then in a populous
city,

And many a civil monster.
Oth. Did he confess it?
Iago.
Good sir, be a man;
Think, every bearded fellow, that's but yok'd,
May draw with you: there's millions now alive,
That nightly lie in those unproper beds,

Which they dare swear peculiar; your case is
better.

O, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mock,
Tolip a wanton in a secure couch,
And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;
And, knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.
Oth. O, thou art wise; 'tis certain.
lago.
Stand you awhile apart;
Confine yourself but in a patient list.
Whilst you were here, ere while mad with your
grief,

(A passion most unsuiting such a man,)
Cassio came hither: I shifted him away,
And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy;
Bade him anon return, and here speak with me;
The which he promis'd. Do but encave yourself,
And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,
That dwell in every region of his face;
For I will make him tell the tale anew,-
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when
He hath, and is again to cope your wife;
I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;
Or I shall say, you are all in all in spleen,
And nothing of a man.

Oth.
Dost thou hear, Iago?
I will be found most cunning in my patience;
But (dost thou hear?) most bloody.
Iago.
That's not amiss;
But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?
(Othello withdraws.)
Now will I question Cassio of Bianca,
A housewife, that, by selling her desires,
Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature,
That dotes on Cassio, -as 'tis the strumpet's

plague,

Re-enter CASSIO.
As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;
And his unbookish jealousy must construe
Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behaviour,
lieute-

Quite in the wrong.-How do you now,
nant?

Whose want even kills me.
Cas. The worser, that you give me the addition,

Iago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure of't. Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power,

(Speaking lower.)

How quickly should you speed?
Cas.
Alas, poor caitiff!
Oth. Look, how he laughs already! (A side.)
Iago. I never knew a woman love man so.
Cas. Alas, poor rogue! I think, i'faith, she loves

Oth. Iago beckons me; now he begins the story. (Aside.) Cas. She was here even now; she haunts me in every place. I was, the other day, talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians; and thither comes this bauble; by this hand, she falls thus about my neck;

Oth. Crying, O dear Cassio! as it were: his gesture imports it. (A side.) Cas. So hangs, and loll and weeps upon me; so hales, and pulls me ha, ha, ha!

Oth. Now he tells, how she plucked him to my
chamber: O, I see that nose of yours, but not that
dog I shall throw it to.
(Aside.)

Cas. Well, I must leave her company.
Iago. Before me! look, where she comes.
Enter BIANCA.

Cas. 'Tis such another fitchew! marry, a perfumed one. What do you mean by this haunting

of me?

Bian. Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you mean by that same handkerchief, you gave me even now? I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the whole work?-A likely piece of work, that you should find it in your chamber, and not know who left it there! This is some minx's token, and I must take out the work? There,give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever you had it, I'll take out no work on't.

Cas. How now, my sweet Bianca? how now? how now?

Oth. By heaven, that should be my handkerchief! (Aside.) Bian, An you'll come to supper to-night, you

may: an you will not, come when you are next prepared for.

[Exit.

Iago. After her, after her.

Cas. 'Faith I must, she'll rail in the street else.
Iago. Will you sup there?
Cas. 'Faith, I intend so.

This fail you not to do, as you m
(Rend
Lod. He did not call; he's busy in the paper.
Is there division 'twixt my lord and Cassio
Des. A most unhappy one; I would do much

My lord

[Exit Cassio.

Iago. Well, I may chance to see you; for I To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio would very fain speak with you. Oth. Fire and brimstone ! Cas. Pr'ythee, come; Will you? Des. Iago. Go to; say no more. Oth. Are you wise! Oth. How shall I murder him, Iago? Des. What, is he angry? Iago. Did you perceive how he laughed at his Lod. 'May be, the letter mov'd hin vice? For, as I think, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his government. Des. By my troth, I am glad on't.

Oth.

Oth. O, Iago!

Iago. And did you see the handkerchief?
Oth. Was that mine?

Iago Yours, by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman, your wife! she gave it him, and he hath given it his whore.

Oth. I would have him nine years a killing:A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman! Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks.

Iago. Nay, that's not your way.

Oth. Hang her! I do but say what she is :-So delicate with her needle!-An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!-Of so high and plenteous wit and invention!

Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Oth. O, a thousand, a thousand times :-And then, of so gentle a condition!

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oth. Nay, that's certain: But yet the pity of it, Iago!-O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago!

lago. If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.

Oth. I will chop her into messes :-Cuckold me!
Iago. O, 'tis foul in her.

Oth. With mine officer !
Iago. That's fouler.

Oth. Get me some poison, Iago; this night:
I'll not expostulate with her, lest her body and
beauty unprovide my mind again:- this night,
Iago.

(A trumpet within.) Oth. Excellent good.-What trumpet is that same?

Iago. Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico, [him. Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants. Lod. 'Save you, worthy general! Oth. With all my heart, sir. Lod. The duke and senators of Venice greet you. (Gives him a packet.) Oth. I kiss the instrument of their pleasures. (Opens the packet, and reads.) Des. And what's the news, good cousin Lodovico?

Iago. I am very glad to see you, signior; Welcome to Cyprus.

Lod. I thank you: How does lieutenant Cassio?
Iago. Lives, sir.

Des. Cousin, there's fallen between him and my
lord
An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.
Oth. Are you sure of that?

Des. My lord?
Oth,

Indeed?
My lord!

Des.

Oth. I am glad to see you mad.
Des.

Oth. Devil!

How, sweet Othello!
(Striking her.)
Des.
I have not deserv'd this.
Lod. My lord, this would not be believ'd in Ve
nice,

Though I should swear I saw it: "Tis very much;
Make her amends, she weeps.

Oth.
O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman's tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile-
Out of my sight!
Des.

lago. Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.

Oth. Good, good: the justice of it pleases; very good.

[tere

Iago. And, for Cassio,-let me be his undertaker: You shall hear more by midnight.

Call-all-in-all sufficient?-This the noble -
Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtse,
The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,
Could neither graze, nor pierce ?

Iago.

He is much chang'd. Lod. Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain! Iago. He is that he is; I may not breathe my

I will not stay to offend you.
(Going

Lod. Truly, an obedient lady:
do beseech your lordship, call her back.
Oth. Mistress-

Des.

My lord?

Oth.
What would you with her, sir'
Lod. Who, I, my lord?
Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make ber

turn:

Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;
And she's obedient, as you say,-obedient,-
Very obedient;-Proceed you in your tears.-
Concerning this, sir,-O well-painted passion!
I am commanded home :-Get you away;
I'll send for you anon.-Sir, I obey the mandate,
And will return to Venice ;-Hence, avaunt!
[Exit DesdemNI,
Cassio shall have my place. And,—sir, to-night,
I do entreat that we may sup together.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.-Goats al
[Ent

monkies!

Lod. Is this the noble Moor whom our full se

nate

SCENE 2.]

THE MOOR OF VENICE.

SCENE II-A Room in the Castle. Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA.

Oth. You have seen nothing then?
Emil. Nor ever heard; nor ever did suspect.
Oth. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
Emil. But theu I saw no harm; and then I
heard

Never, my lord.

Each syllable that breath made up between them.
Oth. What, did they never whisper?
Emil.
Oth. Nor send you out o'the way?
Emil.
Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor
nothing?

Never.

Emil. Never, my lord.
Oth.

That's strange.
Emil. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,
think other,
you
Lay down my soul at stake: if
Remove your thought: it doth abuse your bosom.
If any wretch hath put this in your head,
Let heaven requite it with the serpent's curse!
For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true,
There's no man happy; the purest of their wives
Is foul as slander.

Oth.

But there, where I have garner'd up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain, from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads
To knot and gender in!-turn thy complexion there!
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin;
Ay, there, look grim as hell!

Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee.-'Would, thou hadst
ne'er been born!

Bid her come hither:-go.[Exit Emilia. She says enough;-yet she's a simple bawd, That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet lock-and-key of villanous secrets: And yet she'll kneel, and pray; I've seen her do't.

Re-enter EMILIA, with DESDEMONA.

Let me see your eyes;

Des. My lord, what is your will?
Pray, chuck, come hither.
Oth.
Des. What is your pleasure?
Oth.
Look in my face.
Des.
What horrible fancy's this?
Oth. Some of your function, mistress;
(To Emilia.)
Leave procreants alone, and shut the door;
Cough, or cry-hem, if any body come:
Your mystery, your mystery;-nay, despatch.
[Exit Emilia.
Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech
import!

I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.

Your wife, my lord; your true

Oth. Why, what art thou? Des. And loyal wife. Oth. Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double

damn'd,

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write whore upon? What committed?
Committed!-0 thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.-What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it :-What committed!-
Impudent strumpet!

Des.

By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a strumpet?
Des.
No, as I am a christian:
If to preserve this vessel for my lord,
From any other foul unlawful touch,.
Be-not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Oth. What, not a whore?
Des.

No, as I shall be saved.

Oth. Is it possible?
Des. O, heaven forgive us!
Oth.
I cry you mercy, then;
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
That married with Othello.-You, mistress,
Re-enter EMILIA.

Swear-thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it.
Des.
Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as
[I false?
hell.
Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am
Oth. O Desdemona!-away! away! away!
Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep?
Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord?
If, haply, you my father do suspect
An instrument of this your calling back,
Lay not your blame on me! if you have lost him,
Why, I have lost him too.

That have the office opposite to St. Peter,
And keep the gate of hell; You! you! ay, you!
We have done our course; there's money for your
pains;

[Exit.
I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel.
Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?-
How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?
[lord?
Des. 'Faith, half asleep.
Emil. Good madam, what's the matter with my
Des. With who?

Why, with my lord, madam. lord?

Emil. Des. Who is thy Emil. He that is yours, sweet lady. Des. I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia; I cannot weep; nor answer I have none, But what should go by water. Pr'ythee, to night, Lay on my bed my wedding sheets,-remember;And call thy husband hither.

Emil.

Here is a change, indeed! [Exit. Des. 'Tis meet I should be us'd so, very meet. How have I been behav'd, that he might stick The small'st opinion on my great'st abuse?

Re-enter EMILIA, with IAGO.

Had it pleas'd heaven
Oth.
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kind of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience: but (alas!) to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,-
O!*0!

Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:

Iago. What is your pleasure, madam? How is [babes, it with you? Des. I cannot tell. Those, that do teach young Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks: He might have chid me so; for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding.

Iago.

What's the matter, lady?
Emil. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhor'd her,
Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,
As true hearts cannot bear.

Des. Am I that name, Iago?
Iago.

What name, fair lady?

Des. Such as, she says, my lord did say I was. Emil. He call'd her, whore; a beggar, in his drink, Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. Lago. Why did he so?

[such.

Beshrew him for it!

Des.

Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none Iago. Do not weep, do not weep; Alas, the day! Emil. Has she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, and her friends, To be called-whore? would it not make one weep? Des. It is my wretched fortune. Iago. How comes this trick upon him? Nay, heaven doth know. Emil. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain, Some busy and insinuating rogue, Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office, Have not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd else. Iago. Fy, there is no such man; it is impossible. Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him! Emil. A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones! [company? Why should he call her whore? who keeps her What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?

The Moor's abus'd by some most villanous knave,
Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow :-
O heaven, that such companions thou'dst unfold;
And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world,
Even from the east to the west!

Iago.

Speak within door. Emil. O, fy upon him! some such squire he was, That turn'd your wit the seamy side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor.

Iago. You are a fool; go to.

Des. O good Iago, What shall I do to win my lord again? Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel :If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, Delighted them in any other form; Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will,-though he do shake me off To beggarly divorcement,-love him dearly, Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love. I cannot say, whore; It does abhor me, now I speak the word; To do the act that might the addition earn, Not the world's mass of vanity could make me. Iago. I pray you, be content; 'tis but his humour; The business of the state does him offence, And he does chide with you.

Des.

If 'twere no other, Iago. It is but so, I warrant you. (Trumpets.) Hark, how these instruments summon to supper! And the great messengers of Venice stay: Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well. [Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia. Enter RODERIGO.

self out of my means. The jewels you have hal from me, to deliver to Desdemona, would half have corrupted a votarist: You have told me she has received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance; batl

find none.

How now, Roderigo?
[me.
Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with
Iago. What in the contrary?

Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now,) keep'st me from all conveniency, than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it: Nor am I yet persuaded, to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.

Iago. Will you hear me, Roderigo? Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words, and performances, are no kin together." Jago. You charge me most unjustly. Rod. With nought but truth. I have waste

Iago. Well; go to; very well.

Rod. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, min: nor 'tis not very well: By this hand, I say, it is very scurvy; and begin to find myself fobbed in it Iago. Very well.

Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: If she will return ni my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent ov unlawful solicitation: If not, assure yourself, I will seek satisfaction of you.

Iago. You have said now.

Rod. Ay, and I have said nothing, but what I protest intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even, from this instant, do build on thee a bet ter opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: Thou hast taken against me a most st exception; but, yet, I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.

Rod. It hath not appeared.

Iago. I grant, indeed, it bath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now this ever, I mean, purpose, courage, and valour, — this night shew it; if thou the next night following enjoyest not Desdemona, take me from this wedd with treachery, and devise engines for my life. Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason, and compass?

Iago. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? Why, then Othello and Des demona return again to Venice.

Iago. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident; wherein nost can be so determinate as the removing of Cassin. Rod. How do you mean-removing of him? Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me do?

[Exeunt SCENE III.-Another Room in the Castle. Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Attendants.

Lod. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.

Oth. O pardon me; 'twill do me good to walk. Lod. Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship. Des. Your honour is most welcome. Oth. Will you walk, sir?— 0,-Desdemona,Des. My lord? Oth. Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned forthwith: dismiss your attendant there; my-look, it be done.

Iago. Ay; if you dare do yourself a profit, and right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him ;-he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thesee. (which I shall fashion to fall out between twelve and one,) you may take him at your pleasure; I will be near to second your attempt, and be shal fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a ne cessity in his death, that you shall think yoursel bound to put it on him. It is now high suppertime, and the night grows to waste: about it. Rod. I will hear further reason for this. Iago. And you shall, be satisfied.

Emil.

Come, come, you talk. Des. My mother had a maid call'd-Barbara; She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her: she had a song of-willow, An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, 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'y thee, despatch. 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.

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:

The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;

Sing willow, &c.

Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; Lay by these:

Sing willow, willow, willow; Pr'ythee, bie thee; he'll come anon.—

II.

Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,Nay that's not next.-Hark! who is it that knocks? Emil. It is the wind.

Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'Tis a great price For a small vice.

Des.

Good troth, I think thou would'st 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 husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

There be some such, no question. Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the 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.

world? Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the

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

Sing all a green willow must be my garland. It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

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 wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such woman. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many [for.

To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd 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?
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have?
Then, let them use us well: else, let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us to.

Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such

Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend!

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.--A Street.

Enter IAGO and RODERIGO.

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

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 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.
Enter CASSIO.

Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he :-Villain, thou diest. (Rushes from his post, and makes a pass at

Cassio.)

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The Works of Shakspeare: From the Text of Johnson, Steevens, and Reed