Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now.- O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils, 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 man? 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, 'tis happiness to die. Lod. O thou Othello, that wast once so good, Fall'n in the practice 89 of a cursed slave, What shall be said to thee? Oth. Why, any thing: An honourable murderer, if you will; For nought I did in hate, but all in honour. Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy: Did 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 your 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. 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 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. O the pernicious caitiff! I found it in my chamber: How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief Cas. And he himself confess'd, but even now, That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose, Oth. Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us; That can torment him much, and hold him long, Till that the nature of your fault be known Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go. No more of that:-I pray you, in your letters, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak eyes, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicínal gum: Set you down this: Lod. O bloody period! Gra. [Stabs himself. All, that's spoke, is marr'd. Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee;-No way but this, [Falling upon Desdemona. [Dies. Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; For he was great of heart. Lod. 91O Spartan dog, [To Iago, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea! Let it be hid.-Gratiano, keep the house, [Exeunt. |