Emil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed.
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.

I think, I smell 't:

-

I thought so then: - I'll kill myself for grief.

O villainy, villainy!

O villainy!

Iago. What are you mad? I charge you, get you home. Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:

'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.

Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.

Emil.
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,

Oth. O! O! O!

[Falling on the Bed.

Nay, lay thee down and roar,

O! she was foul.

[Rising.

That e'er did lift up eye.

Oth.
I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece,
Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd.
I know, this act shows terrible and grim.

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

Iago.
Emil. 'T will out, 't will out: I hold my peace, Sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal as the north.

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.

Gra.

Your sword upon a woman?

I will not.

[IAGO offers to stab his Wife,

Fie!

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 murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a woman?

Oth.

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. Are there no stones in heaven,

But what serve for the thunder? Precious villain!

-

you this weapon,

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
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor.
Come, guard the door without: let him not pass,
But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain,
For 't is a damned slave.

[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. I am not valiant neither,

Oth.
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 lov'd 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.

[Dies.

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 to me,

Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra.
Oth.

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, O vain boast!
Who can control his fate? 't is 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? 't is 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 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? O! O! O!

Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO, and Officers, with IAGO,

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.

[OTHELLO Wounds IAGO.

I bleed, Sir; but not kill'd.

Oth. I am not sorry neither: I'd have thee live; For, in my sense, 't is happiness to die.

Lod. O thou Othello! that wert once so good, Fall'n in the practice of a damned slave,

What shall be said to thee?

Oth.

An honourable murderer, if y

Why, any thing:

you will;

For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

Did

Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy.
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 you pardon.

Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil,
Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body?

Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.
From this time forth I never will speak word.

Lod. What! not to pray?

Gra.

Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Torments will ope your lips.

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.

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief,

That was my wife's?

Cas.

O, the pernicious caitiff!

I found it in my chamber;

And he himself confess'd, but even now,

That there he dropp'd it, 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 upon 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 lov'd, not wisely, but too well:
Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand,