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How silent is this town! Ho! murder! murder!
Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.
Signior Lodovico? Lod. He, sir.
Iago. I cry you mercy; Here's Cassio hurt By villains.
How is it, brother?
Marry, heaven forbid !
Bian. O, my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio!
Iago. O notable strumpet -Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be that have thus mangled you?
Iago. Lend me a garter: So-0, for a chair, To bear him easily hence!
Bian. Alas, he faints :-O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio!
Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
Gra. What, of Venice?
Know him? ay.
I am glad to see you. Iago. How do you, Cassio?-0, a chair, a chair!
Gra. Roderigo! Iago. 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.
o'the air.- Cassio and Rod. are borne off.
Enter EMILJA. Emil. ’Las, what's the matter; what's the matter, hus
Iago. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark, [band ? 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 Iago. O, did he so? I charge you, go with me. [not. Emil. Fye, fye upon thee, strumpet!
Bian. I am no strumpet; but of life as honest, As you
that thus abuse me. Emil.
As I ? foh! fye upon thee! Iago. Kind gentlemen, let's go see 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. [Ereunt.
foredoes—,] i. e. Undoes, ruins.
A Bedchạmber: DesdeMONA in bed, asleep. A Light
[Takes off his Sword.
[rose, It needs must wither :-I'll smell it on the tree:
[Kissing ker. 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 thee after :-One more, and this the last:
sweet was ne'er so fatal. But they are cruel tears : This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes, where it doth love. She wakes8 It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,
Let me not nume il-] The abruptness of this soliloquy makes it obscure. The meaning, I think, is this :-I am here (says Othello in his mind) overwhelmed with horror. What is the reason of this perturbation? Is it want of resolution to do justice? Is it the dread of shedding blood ? No; it is not the action that shocks me, but it is the cause, it is the cause, my soul; let me not name it to you, ye chaste stars! it is the cause.- Johnson.
b Put out the light, and then--put out the light !] I have adopted the punctuation recommended by Warburton; it makes the passage intelligible without any alteration of the text. If we print the line as it stands in the more recent editions, Put out the light, and then put out the light, we ought to read, in the latter clause of the line," and then put out thy light,” as suggested by Malone.
This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes, where it doth love.] Alluding to " whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth."-M. Mason. VOL. VIII.
I must weep,
Ay, I do.
Des. Who's there? Othello?
Ay, my lord.
Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?
Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:
Des. Talk you of killing?
Amen, with all my heart! Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. Oth. Humph!
Des. And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then,
Oth. Think on thy sins.
They are loves I bear to you. Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest.
Des. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving.Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame: These are portents; but yet, I hope, I hope, They do not point on me. Oth.
Peace, and be still ! Des. I will so: What's the matter? Oth. That handkerchief, which I so lov'd, and gave
No, by my life and soul;
Sweet soul, take heed, Take heed of perjury; thou’rt on thy death-bed.
Des. Ay, but not yet to die.
Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me!
Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand.
He found it then;
He hath confess'd.
Des. He'll not say so.
No, his mouth is stopp'd; Honest Iago hath ta'en order' for't.
Des. My fear interprets then,- What, is he dead?
Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Des. Alas! he is betray'd, and I undone.
face? Des. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not. Oth. Down, strumpet! k A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:) This line is difficult. Thou hast hardened my heart, and makest me kill thee with the rage of a murderer, when I thought to have sacrificed thee to justice with the calmness of a priest striking a victim.
I am glad that I have ended my revisal of this dreadful scene. It is not to be endured.-JOHNSON. ta'en order-) i. e. Taken measures.