O villainy, 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. Oth. O! O! O! [Hanging over his Wife. Nay, lay thee down, and roar; For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, Oth. O, 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 dead; Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows, My father gave my mother. Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! sir? no; No, I will speak as liberal' as the air; Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, Emil. Gra. I will not. [IAGO offers to stab his Wife. Fye! Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou Your sword upon a woman? speak'st of, I found by fortune, and did give my For often, with a solemn earnestness, husband; (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? Oth. [IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. 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; 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: Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, No, I will speak as liberal-] Liberal is free, under no control. "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, Oth. [Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. But every puny whipster gets my sword:- Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? [Dies. Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper;1O, 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? Oth. Behold! I have a weapon; A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day, 4 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 stubborn temper. Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd; O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils, Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO, carried in a Chair, and Officers, with IAGO, prisoner. Lod. Where is this rash and nost unfortunate man? Oth. That's he, that was Othello; here I am. If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. [OTHELLO wounds IAGO. Lod. Wrench his sword from him. Iago. Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live; For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. Lod. O thou Othello, that was once so good, towards his feet;] To see if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven. Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave, Oth. Why, any thing: An honourable murderer, if you will; For nought I did in hate, but all in honour. 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 ensnar'd my soul and body? lago. Demand me nothing: What you know, you know: From this time forth I never will speak word. 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 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. How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief 6 Oth. O the pernicious caitiff! I found it in my chamber: Cas. in the practice-] In the snare, by the stratagem. |