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(More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) Lod. Wrench his sword from him. He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago. I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. Iago. Villainous whore!

Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live: Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas; I found it For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. And I did give't my husband.

Lod. o thou Othello, that was once so good, Jago. Filth, thou liest!

Fall’n in the practice of a cursed slave,
Emil. By heaven, I do not! I do not, gentlemen! What shall be said to thee?
O murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool Oth. Why, any thing:
Do with so good a wife?

An honourable murderer, if you will;
[Iago stabs Emilia, then runs out. For ought I did in hate, but all in honour.
Oth. Are there no stones in heaven,

Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy; But what serve for the thunder?- Precious villain ! Did you and he consent in Cassio's death? Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has kill'd his wife. Oth. Ay. Emil. Ay, ay; 0, lay me by my mistress' side! Cus. Dear general, I never gave you cauge, Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Oth. I do believe it; and I ask your pardon! Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, Will you, I pray you, demand that demi-devil, Which I have here recover'd from the Moor, Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body? Come, guard the door without ; let him not pass, Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain,

know: l'or 'lis a damped slave.

From this time forth I never will speak word. (Exeunt Montano and Gratiano. Lod. What? pot to pray ? Oth. I am not valia neither,

Gra. Torments will ope your lips. But every puny whipster gets my sword:

Oth. Well, thou dost best. But why should honour outlive honesty ?

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, Let it

go
all.

Which, as I think, you know not: here is a letter, Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?

Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
Hark, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan, And here, another: the one of them imports
And die in music;— Willow, willow, willow.-- The death of Cassio to be untertook
Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor: By Roderigo.
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;

Oth. O villain !
So speaking as I think, I die,- 1 die! (Dies. Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross !

Oih. I have another weapon in this chamber, Lod. Now here's another discontented paper,
It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper; Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
O, here it is : Uncle, I must come forth.

Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;
Gra.[1Vithin.]If thou attemptit,it will cost thee dear; But that, belike, Iago in the interim
Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must sulfer. Came in and satisfied him.

Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Oth. O the pernicious caitisf!-
Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee!

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
Re-enter GRATIANO.

That was my wife's?
Gra. What is the matter?

Cas. I found it in

my

chamber: Oth. Behold! I have a weapon;

And he himself confess'd, but even now, A better never did itself sustain

That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose, Upon a soldier's thigh ; I have seen the day, Which wrought to his desire. That, with this little arm, and this good sword, Oth. O fool! fool! fool! I have made my way through more impediments, Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter, Than twenty times your stop :- but, О vain boast! How he upbraids Jago, that he made him Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.-- Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd; That I was cast: and even but now he spake, Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, After long seeming dead, -Iago hurt him, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.

lago set him on. Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear;

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us; Man but a rush against Othello's breast,

Your power and your command is taken off, And he retires; where should Othello go? And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave, Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench! If there be any cunning cruelty, Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt, That can torment him much, and hold him long, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, It shall be his; you shall close prisoner rest, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold my girl? Till that the nature of

your

fault be known Even like thy chastity:

To the Venetian state. -Come, bring him away! () cursed, cursed slave!- Whip me, ye devils, Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go! From the possession of this heavenly sight! I have done the state some service, and they know it: Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! No more of of that:- I pray you, in your letters, Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!- When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead?

Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Dead? O! O! O!

Nor set down avght in malice: then must you speak Enter Lodovico, Mortaro, Cassio carried in a chair. Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well"; and officers, with lago, prisoner.

Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand,

Like the base Júdean, threw a pearl away, Oth. That's he, that was Othello ; here I am. Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdu'd eyes, Lod. Where is that viper ? bring the villain forth! Albeit unused to the melting mood, Oth. I look down towards his feet;-but that's a fable: Drop tears as fast, as the Arabian trees If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. Their medicinal gum. Set you down this :

(Othello wounds Iago. And say, besides,-that in Aleppo once,

man ?

a

Where a malignant and a turban’d Tark

Lod. o Spartan dog,
Beat' a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,

More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea !
I took by the throat the circumcised dog, Look on the tragic loading of this bed; (To lago.
And smote him—thus.

[Stabs himself. This is thy work! the object poisons sight;Lord. O bloody period !

Let it be hid! - Gratiano, keep the house, Gra. All, that's spoke, is marr'd.

And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee; no way but For they succeed to you.–To you, lord

governor, this,

(Falling upon Desdemona. Remains the censure of this hellish villain; Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

(Dies. The time, the place, the torture, -0 enforce it! Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon, Myself will straight aboard; and, to the state, For he was gre of heart.

This heavy act with heavy heart relate. (E.xeunt.

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