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She comes more near the earth than fhe was wont) And makes men mad.

Æmil. Caflio, my Lord, hath killed
A young Venetian, called Rodorigo.

01h. Rodorigo killed ? and Casio killed?
Emil. No, Caffio is not killed.

Oth. Not Caffio killed? then murder's out of tunes And sweet revenge grows harsh.

Def. Oh falsely, falsely murdered !...
Æmil. Alas, what cry is that?
Oth. That? what?

Æmil. Out, and alas ! that was my Lady's voice.. Help! help, hoa ! help ! oh Lady, speak again:; Sweet Desdemona! oh, sweet mistress, speak

Def. A guiltless death I die.
Æmil. Oh, who hath done this deed?

Def. No body, I myfclf, farewel;
Commend me to my kind Lord; oh, farewel. [Diese

Oth. Why, how thould she be murdered?
Æmil. Alas, who knows?
Oth. You heard her fay herself, it was not I.
Æmil. She said so, I must needs report the truth

Oth. She's like a liar gone to burning hell; 'Twas I that killed her. Æmit: Oh, the more angel the, and you the

blacker devil. Oth. She turned to folly, and fhe was a whore. Æmit. Thou dost bely her, and thou art a devil, 01h. She was falfe as water.

Æmil. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false. Oh, she was heavenly true:

Oth. Caffio did tup her; ask thy husband else. Oh, I were damned beneath all depth in hells But that I did proceed upon just grounds To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.

Æmil. My husband !

Oth: Thy husband.
Æmil, That she was false to wedlock?

Oth. Ay, with Caffie. Had ihe been true,
If. Heaven would make me tuch another world,
Of one entire and perfect Chrysolite,
I'd not have sold her for it.

Ævil. My husband !

Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first; An honest man he is, and hates the slime That sticks on filthy deeds:

Æmil. My husband ! ? Oth. What needs this iteration; woman? I say, thy husband.

Æmil. Oh mistress ! villainy has made mocks with My husband say she was false !

[love Otk. He, woman; I say, thy husband; do'st understand the word? My friend, thy husband, honest, honest lago. : Æmil. If he says fo, may bis pernicious foul Rot half a grain a-day! he lyes to th’ heart. She was too fond of her most.bilthy bargain.

Oth. Hah!

Æmil. Do thy worst: ,
This deed of thine is no more worthy Heav'niga
Than thou wait worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were best..

Æmil. Thou hast not half that power to do me Asl have to be hurt: oh gull! oh dolt ! [harm, As ignorant as dirt ! thou’it done a deed l.care not for thy sword; 11} make ihee. known, Though I lost twenty lives---Help! help, hoa !help! The Moor hath killed my mistress. Murder, inurder ! : Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, JAGO, and others. Mon. What is the matter? how now, General??


Æmil. Oh, are you come, lago? you have done

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

Gra. What is the matter?

Æinil. Dilprove this, villain, if thou be'st a man; He says thou toldest him that his wife was falfe: I know thou didst not; thou’rt not such a villain. Speak, for my heart is full.

lago. I told him what I thought; and told na: Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Æmil.. But did you ever tell him fhe was false? lago. I did.

Æmil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie: Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie. She false with Caffio ? did you say, with Caffio ? laga. With Callio, mistress; go to, charm your

tongue. Æmil. I will not charm my tongue ; I'm bound:

to speak;
My mistress lyes here murdered on her bed.

All. Oh Heavens forfend !
Æmil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oih. Nay, ftare not, masters; it is true, indeed.
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.
Mon. Oh monstrous ad !

Æmil. Villainy! villainy! villainy!
I think upon't--- I think---I smellt--ch villainy !
I thought fo then; I'll kill myfelf for grief;
Oh villainy, villainy !

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

you home.

Æmil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to "Tis proper I obey him, but not now: [speak: Perchance, lago, I will ne'er go heme.

Oih. Oh, oh, oh! [Othello falls on the Bed.

Æmil. Nay, lay thee down and roar:
For thou hast killed the sweetest innocent.
That e'er did lift up eye.
Onn. Oh, fre was foul!

[Rising. I scarce did know you, uncle; there lyes your niece, Whose breath indeed there hands have newly stope.

ped. I know this act shews-horrible and grim, Gra. Poor Desdemona! I'm 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 fight would make him do a desperate turn; Yea, curse his better angel from his side, And fal! to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iage knows,
That she with Caffio had the act of Shame
A thousand times committed. Callio 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 an handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother,

mil. Oh Heav'n! oh heav'nly powers !
lago. Comne, hold your peace.
Æmil. 'Twill out, 'twill out !---I,

peace !
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.

lago. Be wise, and get you home.
Æmil. I will not. (lago offers to fab his Wife.
Gra. Fy, your


upon a woman! Æmil. Ch, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief

thou speakest of, I found by fortune, and did give my husband; For offen, with a fölemn earneltness,

(More than, indeed, belonged to such a trifle } He begged of me to steal it.

lugo. Villainous whore !

Æmil. She gave it Caffio ? alas, I found it, And I did give't my husband.

lago. Eilth, thou lielt.

Æmil. By Heav'n, I do not; I do not, gentlemen:: Oh murd'rous coxcomb! what thould such a fool Do with so good a wife?

(lago breaks through and wounds his Wife,

then runs out. Oth. Are there no {tones in heaven But what serve for the thunder? precious villain ! Gra. The woman falls; sure, he has killed his

wife. Æmil. Ay, ay; oh, Jay me by my mistress' fide, Gra. He's gone, but his wife is killed.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain; take this weapon, Which I have here recovered from the Moor: Come, guard the door without, let him not pass,. But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain, For 'ris a dained slave. [Exeunt Mon. and Gra.

Oth. I am not valiant neither;.
But every puny whipster gets my sword.
But why should honour outlive honefty?
Let it


Æmil. What did thy fong: bode, Lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan;-
And die in music; “ Willow, willow, willow".
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true,
So speaking as I think, alas, 1 die. [Æmilia dies

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber;
It was a sword of Spain, the Ebro's temper;
Oh, here it is : Uncle, I must come fortb.

Gra. within.] If thou attempt it, it will.coft thee:


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