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Iago. O murderous slave! O villain !

[Iago stabs RODERIGO. Rod. O damn’d Iago ! O inhuman dog !0!0!0! 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.
Iago. Signior Lodovico ?
Lod. He, sir.

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

Gra. Cassio ?
Iago. How is it, brother?
Cas. My leg is cut in two.

Iago. Marry, heaven forbid !-
Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt.

Enter BIANCA. Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that cry’d? Iago. Who is't that cry'd ?

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.

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

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

Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash
To be a party in this injury.--
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.
Iago. How do you, Cassio ?–0, a chair, a chair!
Gra. Roderigo!
Iago. He, he, 'tis he:-0, that's well said ;---the

[A chuir 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.--- (Cas. and Rod. are borne off. Stay you, good gentlemen :---Look you pale, mistress? Do you perceive the gastness 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, Though tongues were out of use.


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

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 yoti 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. Fye, fye upon thee, strumpet !

Biàn. 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, That either makes me, or fordoes me quite. [Exeunt.

[ Aside.

SCENE II.-A Bed-chamber: DesdEMONA in bed

asleep. A light burning.

Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my

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:
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,
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy

rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither :-I'll smell it on the tree.

[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 thee 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?
Des. Ay, my lord.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,

any crime,

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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 forefend !—I would not kill thy soul.

Des. Talk you of killing ?
Oth. Ay, I do.

Des. Then, heaven
Have mercy on me!

Oth. 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, When your eyes roll so: Why I should fear, I know

Since guiltiness I know not; but yet, I feel, I fear.

Oth. Think on thy sins.
Des. 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

Thou gav'st to Cassio.

Des. No, by my life and soul; Send for the man, and ask him.

Oth. Sweet soul, take heed,

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