Oth. Oh, fhe was foul!

[ Rifing.
I scarce did know you, uncle. There lies your neice,
Whose breath indeed thefe hands have newly ftopt.
I know, this act shews' horrible and grim.

Gra. Poor Defdemona, 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 fight would make him do a defperate turn;

Yea, curse his better angel from his fide,

n

Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows
That fhe with Caffio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed. Caffio confeft it;
And fhe did gratify his amorous works,

With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave her; I faw it in his hand;
It was a handkerchief, an P antique token
My father gave my mother.

Emil. Oh heaven! oh heavenly powers!

Jago. Come, hold your peace.

t

Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out-I hold my peace? "fir,

I'll be in speaking liberal as the air;

Let heaven, and men, and devils, let 'em all,
All, all cry fhame against me, yet I'll speak.
Iago. Be wife, and get you home.

Emil. I will not.

[lago offers to ftab his wife.

Gra. Fie, your fword upon a woman?

Emil. Oh, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou

speak'ston,

I found by fortune, and did give my husband';

For often, with a folemn earnestness,

More than indeed belong'd to fuch a trifle,

He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago.. Villainous whore

a

Emil. She give it Caffio? no-alas, I found it, And I did give 't my husband.

Iago. Filth, thou lieft.

Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, Gentlemen.
Oh murderous coxcomb! what should fuch a fool
Do with fo good a wife?

[Iago breaks through, and wounds his wife;

then runs out.

Oth. Are there no ftones in heaven,

But what ferve for the thunder? precious villain!
Gra. The woman falls! fure he hath kill'd his wife.

Emil. Ay, ay, oh, lay me by my mistress' fide.
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 pafs,
But kill him rather. I'll after that fame villain,
..For 'tis a damned flave..

[Exeunt Mon, and Gra,

SCENE IX.

Oth. I am not valiant neither;

But every puny whipfter gets my fword.
But why fhould honour outlive honesty?
Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?

Hark, canft thou hear me? I will play the fwan,
And die in mufick. Willow, willow, willow-
Moor, fhe was chafte; fhe lov'd thee, cruel Moor;
So come my foul to blifs, as I fpeak true;

So fpeaking as I think, I die, I die.

[Æmilia dies.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a fword of Spain, the ice-book's temper; Oh, here it is. Uncle, I muft come forth.

f P. and all after omit you; the qu's. read your for you this!.

The fo's and R. omit bere. P. reads Which I recovered have here from,

&c.

i So the qu's and C; the reft, alas for I die.

* So the qu's; the reft, is for war. So the fo's, R. and the qu's, Ifabrooke's; the reft, Ebro's; a river of

h What is in italic is omitted in the Spain particularly famous for tempering

ર૧

Gra. [within.] If thou attempt it, it will coft thee dear; Thou haft no weapon, and perforce muft fuffer.

Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak m with me,

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

Re-enter Gratiano.

Gra. What is the matter?

Oth. Behold, I have a weapon:

A better never did itself fuftain

Upon a foldier's thigh. I have feen the day,
That with this little arm, and this good fword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times ° your ftop. But, oh vain boaft!
Who can controul his fate? 'tis not fo now.
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
The very fea-mark of my utmost fail.
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a loft fear:
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires. Where Should Othello go?
'Now-how deft thou look now? oh ill-ftarr'd wench!
Pale as thy fmock! When we shall meet at 'count,
This look of thine will hurl my foul from heaven,
And fiends will fnatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl,
Even like thy chastity. O curfed flave!

Whip, me, ye devils,

From the poffeffion of this heavenly fight;
Blow me about in winds, " roaft me in fulphur,
Wash me in fteep-down gulphs of liquid fire,
Oh Defdemona ", Desdemona! dead! oh, oh, oh!

SCENE X.

Enter Lodovico, Caffio led in wounded, Montano, and
Iago prifoner, with officers,

Lod. Where is this rafh and moft unfortunate man?
Oth. That's he that was Othello".

b

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'ft a devil I cannot kill thee.

Oth. I am not forry neither: I'd have thee live;

For in my fenfe, 'tis happiness

Led. O thou, Othello, that

to die.

с

wert once fo good,

t The qu's, you for ye,

u Bofore roast the two laft fo's and R. infert and.

Here the fo's and R. infert dead. * All but the qu's and 1ft fo's, repeat on but twice.

y All but the qu's and C. repeat eb

but tapice.

y The qu's and C. Caffio in a chair, z Here C. directs, [pointing to bis wife.

a The 1st q. this for that.

b The 1ft q. omits that.

c The 1ft q. spring for surench.

J So the qu's; the fo's, was for wait; the reft, waft.

Fall'n