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Rot half a grain a-day! he lies to th' heart.
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.

Oth. Hah!-

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

Oth. Peace, you were best.

Æmil. Thou hast not half that power to do me As I have to be hurt : oh gull! oh dolt ! [harm, As ignorant as dirt! thou'st done a deed I care not for thy sword, I'll make thee known, Though I lost twenty lives--Help! help, hoa! help! The Moor hath killed my mistress. Murder, murder! Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, I ago, 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 ?

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

[more . Iago. I told him what I thought ; and told no · Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Æmil. But did you ever tell him she was false?
Iago. I did.

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

[to speak; Æmil. I will not charm my tongue ; l'm bound My mistress lies here murdered on her bed.“

All. Oh Heavens forfend!
Einil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true indeed.
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.
Mon. Oh monstrous act!

Æmil. Villainy! villainy! villainy !
I think upon't-I think-I smell't-oh villainy !
I thought so then ; I'll kill myself for grief ;-
Oh villainy, villainy!

(you home. Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get

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

Oth. 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.
Oth. Oh, she was foul !

[Rising. I scarce did know you, uncle; there lies your


Whose breath indeed these hands have newly

stopped. I know this act shews horrible and grim. [dead:

Gra. Poor Desdemona! I'm glad thy father's 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, (80) And fall to reprobation.

Oth, 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows,
That she with Cassio had 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 an handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Æmil. O Heav'n! oh heav'nly powers !
Iago. Come, 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 l'll speak.

Iago. Be wise, and get you home.

(80) His better angel from his side. At Brabantiu's side in the moon there is a likeness of a winged angel, as before drawn in fig. 63.

Æmil. I will not. [lago offers to stab his Wife.
Gra. Fie, your sword upon a woman?
Æmil. Oh, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief

thou speakest of,
I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
For often, with a solemn earnestness,
(More than indeed belonged to such a trifle)
He begged of me to steal it.

Iago. Villainous whore!

Æmil. She gave it Cassio ? alas, I found it, • And I did giv't my husband.

Iago. Filth thou liest.

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

[Iago breuks through and wounds

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

wife. Æmil. Ay, ay ; oh, lay me by my mistress' side. 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 'tis a damned slave. [Exeunt Mon, and Gra.

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Oth. I am not valiant neither ;
But every puny whipster (81) gets my sword.
But why should honour outlive honesty ?
Let it go all.

Æmil. 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 loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, alas, I die. [Æmilia dies.

Oth. I have another weapon(82) in this chamber, It was a sword of Spain, the Ebro's temper; Oh, 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?


(81) Puny whipster. By a reference to the prototype of Montano, as drawn in fig. 101, he will be seen to be short or dwarfish in size.

(82) I take this other weapon to allude to the strong marked streak of light on Rodorigo's face, which would fall about the thigh of Othello, and in that reversed position would have the shape of a scymitar.

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