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Emil. Why, would not you?

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 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,s 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 out treasures into foreign laps; Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us; or, say, they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite; Why, we have galls; and, though we have somegrace, Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know,


- for a joint-ring ;] Anciently a common token among lovers. 8 To the vantage,] i. e. to boot, over and above.

our former having -] Our former allowance of expence.


Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell,
And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do,
When they change us for others ? Is it sport?
I think it is ; And doth affection breed it ?
I think, it doth; Is't frailty, that thus errs?
It is so too: And have not we affections ?
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have?
Then, let them use us well: else, let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us to.
Des. Good night, good night : Heaven me such

usage send,
Not to pick bad from bad ; but, by bad, mend !



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.
Iago. 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;
It must not be: if Cassio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life,
That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril:
No, he must die :-But so, I hear him coming.

Enter Cassio. Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he;-Villain, thou diest. (Rushes from his post, and makes a pass at Cassio.

Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st ; I will make proof of thine.

[Draws, and wounds RODERIGO. Rod.

O, I am slain! [Iago rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind

in the Leg, and exit. Cas. I am maim'd for ever:– Help, ho! murder! murder!


· I have rutb'd this young quat almost to the sense,

And he grows angry.] This is a passage much controverted among the editors. A quat in the midland courties is a pimple, which by rubbing is made to smart, or is rubbed to sense. Roderigo is called a quat by the same mode of speech, as a low fellow is now termed in low language a scab. - Torub to the sense, is to rub · to the quick. JOHNSON.

that I bobb’d from him,] That I foold him out of. A bob formerly signified a mock, or jeer.

in the

leg,] Iago maims Cassio in the leg, in consequence of what he had just heard him say, from which he supposed that his body was defended by some secret armour.



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

Hark! 'tis even so. Cas. 0, help! ho! light! a surgeon!

Oth. "Tis he ;-0 brave Iago, honest, and jast, That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong! Thou teachest me,-Minion, your dear lies dead, And your fate hies apace :-Strumpet, I come: Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are

blotted; Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted.


Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO, at a distance. Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage?' mur

der! murder!
Gra. "Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
Cas. Ó, help!


0 wretched villain! Lod. Two or three groans ;-it is a heavy night: These


be counterfeits ; let's think’t unsafe To come in to the cry, without more help.

Rod. No body 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.

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Forth of my heart, &c.] Forth signifies both out and

from. no passage?] No passengers ? nobody going by? in a heavy night :) A thick cloudy night, in which an ambush may be commodiously laid.


Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that

cries on murder ?? Lod. We do not know. Iago.

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. Iago. What are you here that cry so grievously?

Cas. Iago? O, I am spoild, undone by villains !
Give me some help.
Iago. O me, lieutenant ! what villains have done

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

O treacherous villains ! What are you there? come in, and give some help.

[To Lodovico, and GRATIANO. Rod. O, help me here ! Cas. That's one of them. Iago.

O murderous slave! O villain!

[Iago stabs RODERIGO. Rod. O damn’d Iago! O inhuman dog !O! O! O! Iago. Kill men i'the dark !-Where be these

bloody thieves ?How silent is this town! Ho! murder ! murder! What may you be ? are you of good, or evil ?

Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.

Signior Lodovico :
Lod. He, sir.

I cry you mercy; Here's Cassio hurt By villains.

Gra. Cassio ?


whose noise is this, that cries on murder?] Such was the phraseology of Shakspeare's age.

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