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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 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 fer 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 having in despite;
Why, we have galls; and, though we have some

grace,
Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know,
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 !

[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.
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,

1

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 maiin’d for ever :-Help, ho! murder! murder!

[Falls.

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. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon !

Oth. 'Tis he ;- brave Iago, honest, and just,
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.

[Exit OTHELLO.

Enter Lodovico and GRATIANO, at a distance. Cas. What, ho! no watch ? no passage ? murder!

murder !

Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.
Cas. 0, help!
Lod. Hark!
Rod. 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. 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. 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? 0, I am spoild, 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! Cas. That's one of them.

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