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Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, and Iago. Mon. What is the matter !-How now, general? Emil. O, are you come, Iago ? you have done

well, That men must lay their murders on your neck.

Gra. What is the matter?

Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man: He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false : I know, thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain; Speak, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no


Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Emil. But did you ever tell him, she was false? Iago. I did.

Emil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie: She false with Cassio !- Did you say with Cassio ? Iago. With Cassio, mistress ; Go to, charm your

tongue. Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound

to speak;
My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed.

All. O heavens forfend!
Emil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed.
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.
Mon. O monstrous act!

Villainy, villainy, villainy! I think upon't,—I think,—I smell’t ;-0 villainy! I thought so then ;-—I'll kill myself for grief.

* I thought so then :] i. e. at the instant when she gave

Des. demona's handkerchief to Iago: for even then Emilia

appears to have suspected it was sought after for no honest purpose, and therefore asks her husband

“ What will you do with it ?" &c.

O villainy, villainy!

Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get

you home.

Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to

'Tis proper I obey him, but not now:
Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.

Oth. 0! O! O! [Hanging over his Wife.

Nay, lay thee down, and roar;
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.

0, she was foul !

[Rising I scarce did know you, uncle: There lies your

niece, Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly

stopp'd : I know, this act shows horrible and grim.

Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's


Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain : did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desperate turn,
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows,
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it:
And she did gratify his amorous works
With that recognizance and pledge of love
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 !

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.

I will not.

[Iago offers to stab his Wife. Gra.

Fye! 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, belong'd to such a trifle,) He begg’d of me to steal it. Iago.

Villainous whore ! Emil. She give 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?

[Iago stabs Emilia, then runs out. Oth.

Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder ? 3- Precious villain !

Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has kill'd his wife.
Emil. Ay, ay: 0, 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: Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,

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No, I will speak as liberal —] Liberal is free, under no control. 3 Are there no stones in heaven,

But what serve for the thunder?] Shakspeare might mean, does heaven reserve its thunder only to make a noise ? has it no implements of mischief to punish as well as terrify?

But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain,
For 'tis a damned slave.

[E.reunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. Oth.

I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets my sword: But why should bonour outlive honesty? Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? Hark, can’st thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in musick ;-Willow, willow, willow.Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor; So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true; So speaking as I think, I die,mi die. [Dies.

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.

Re-enter GRATIANO.
Gra. What is the matter?

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, О vain boast !
Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.-

the ice-brook's temper ;] This ice-brook was the brook or rivulet called Salo (now Xalon,) near Bilbilis in Celtiberia. In this the Spaniards plunged all their swords and other weapons while hot from the forge; and to the icy qualities of the waters, they were indebted for their stubboro temper.

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 Iago, prisoner.
Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate

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.

[OTHIELLO wounds LAGO. 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. © thou Othello, that was once so good,

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towards his feet;] To see if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven.

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