Des. All's one:-Good father! how foolish are
our minds!-

If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me
In one of those same sheets.

Emil.
Come, come, you talk.
Des. My mother had a maid call'd-Barbara;
She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, i
And did forsake her: she had a song of-willow,
An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
And she died singing it: That song, to-night,
Will not go from my mind; I have much to do,
But to go hang my head all at one side,
And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, despatch.
Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown?
Des.
No, unpin me here.-

This Lodovico is a proper man.
Emil. A very handsome man.
Des.

And he speaks well. Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walked barefoot to Palestine. for a touch of his nether lip.

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow:

The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;

Sing willow, &c.

Des.

Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,-Why, who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.

Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world: and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such woman.
Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many

To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd for.

But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults,
If wives do fall: Say, that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or, say, they strike us
Or scant our former having3 in despite ;
Why, we have galls; and, though we have some

smell,

stones;

Lay by these:

Sing willow, willow, willow:

Pr'ythee, hie thee; he'll come anon.—

Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emilia,-
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?

Emil.
There be some such, no question.
Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the
world?

Emil. Why, would not you?
Des.
No, by this heavenly light!
Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light;
I might do't as well i'the dark.

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world?

Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'Tis a great price

For a small vice.

Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me suc usage send,

Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! [Exeunt

ACT V.

SCENE I-A street. Enter Iago and Roderigo.

Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come:

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home;
Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:
It makes us, or it mars us: think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. lago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy sword. [Retires to a little distance. Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed; And yet he has given me satisfying reasons:'Tis but a man gone:-forth, my sword; he dies. [Goes to his stand. Iago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to

the sense.

And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain: Live Roderigo,
He calls me to a restitution large

Of gold, and jewels, that I bobb'd' from him,
As gifts to Desdemona;

Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his word. Rod. O, villain that I am!

Oth.

der! murder!

Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful. Cas. O, help!

Lod. Rod.

Hark!

O wretched villain!

Lod. Two or three groans;-it is a heavy night; These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe To come in to the cry, without more help. Rod. Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago, with a light.

Lod. Hark!

Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.

Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder? Lod. We do not know. Jago. Did you not hear a cry? Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. Iago. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Jago. What are you here that cry so grievously? Cas. Iago? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help.

Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this?

Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away.

Iago. O treacherous villains! What are you there? come in, and give some help. [To Lodovico and Gratiano.

Rod. O, help me here! (1) Out.

(2) No passengers.

Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that cried?

Iago. Who is't that cried?

Bian. O my dear Cassio! My sweet Cassio! O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio!

Iago. O notable strumpet!-Cassio, may you

suspect

Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?

Cas. No.

Gra. I am sorry, to find you thus: I have been to seek you.

Jago. Lend me a garter: So.-0, for a chair, To bear him easily hence!

Bian. Alas, he faints :-0 Cassio! Cassio!
Cassio!

To be a party in this injury.-
Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash

Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come;
Lend me a light.-Know we this face, or no?
Alas! my friend; and my dear countryman,
Roderigo? no:-Yes, sure; O heaven! Roderigo.

Gra. What, of Venice?

Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him?
Gra.
Know him? ay.
Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;
These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,
That so neglected you.

Gra.
I am glad to see you.
lago How do you, Cassio?-O, a chair, a chair!
Gra. Roderigo!

lago. He, he, 'tis he :-0, that's well said :-the chair:[A chair brought in. Some good man bear him carefully from hence; I'll fetch the general's surgeon.-For you, mistress, [To Bianca. Save you your labour. He that lies slain here, Cassio,

Was my dear friend: What malice was between you!

Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man. Iago. [To Bian.] What, look you pale ?—0, bear him out o'the air.

[Cassio and Rod, are borne off. Stay you, good gentlemen:-Look you pale, mis

tress?

Do you perceive the ghastness of her eye?—
Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon:-
Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her;
Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak,

(3) Thick, cloudy.

Though tongues were out of use.

Enter Emilia.

Emil. 'Las, what's the matter; what's the matter, husband?

Iago. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark,
By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scap'd;
He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.

Emil. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
Iago. This is the fruit of whoring.-Pr'ythee,
Emilia,

Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night:-
What, do you shake at that?

Bian. He supp'd at my house; but I therefore
shake not.

Iago. O, did he so? I charge you, go with me.
Emil. Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!

Bian. I am no strumpet; but of life as honest, As you that thus abuse me.

Emil.
As I? foh! fie upon thee!
Iago. Kind gentlemen, let's go sce poor Cassio
dress'd:-

Come, mistress, you must tell us another tale.-
Emilia, run you to the citadel,

And tell my lord and lady what has happ'd.-
Will you go on, I pray ?-This is the night, [Aside.
That either makes me, or fordoes' me quite. [Exe.
SCENE II-A bed-chamber: Desdemona in bed
asleep. A light burning. Enter Othello.
Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,-
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!
It is the cause.-Yet I'll not shed her blood;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.

[Takes off his sword.
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:2
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me:-but once put out thine,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat,

No, by my life and soul;

Sweet soul, take heed,

Send for the man, and ask him.
Oth.

Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed.
Des. Ay, but not yet to die.
Oth.

Yes, presently:
Thererefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
Cannot remove, nor choke, the strong conception,
For to deny each article with oath,
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die."
Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me!
Oth.
I say, amen.
Des. And have you mercy too!-I never did
Offend you in my Iffe; never lov'd Cassio,
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love: I never gave him token.
Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his
hand.

O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st me call, what I intend to do,-
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:4
I saw the handkerchief.
Des.
He found it then;

[Kissing her.

O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword!-One more, one more.-
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thec after:-One more, and this the last:
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: This sorrow's heavenly;
It strikes, where it doth love.-She wakes-
Des. Who's there? Othello?
Oth.

Ay, Desdemona.
Des. Will you come to bed, my lord?
Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
Ay, my lord.

Des.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime, Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.

Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?
Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:

I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;
No,-Heaven forfend!-I would not kill thy soul.
Des. Talk you of killing?

Oth.

Ay, I do.

Then heaven

(2) i. e. The light of life.

And let him confess a truth.

Gra. 'Tis a strange truth. Mon. O monstrous act! Emil. Villany, villany, villany!I think upon't, I think,-I smell't;-0 villany! I thought so then?—I'll kill .nyself for grief.O villany, villany!

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.
Emil.
Nay, lay thee down, and roar;
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.
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
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,

And fall to reprobation.

Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows,

That she with Cassio hath the act of shame

What did thy song bode, lady?

[Dies.

Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan
And die in music;-Willow, willow, willow.-
Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor,
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die,—I die.
Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber,
It is a sword of Spain, the ice brook's temper;2-
O, 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 mater?
Oth.

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 a handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers!
Iago.
Come, hold your peace.
Emil. Twill out, 'twill out:-I hold my peace,

sir? no;

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.
Iago. Be wise, and get you home.
Emil.

Gra.

I will not.

[Iago offers to stab his wife.

Your sword upon a woman?

Fie!

Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of,

I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
But often, with a solemn earnestness

(More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,)
He begg'd of me to steal it.

lago.

Villanous whore!

Emil. She gave it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did give't my husband.

Filth, thou liest.

Iago. 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?

[lago stabs Emilia, 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 kill'd his

Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sca-mark of my utmost sail.
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires;-Where should Othello go?-
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
Even like thy chastity.-

O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire !—
O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead?
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