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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.

Tago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon; These bloody accidents must excuse my mauners, That so neglected you.

Gra. I am glad to see you.

Iugo. 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. lago. [To Bian.] What, look you pale ?-0, bear him out o' the air.

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

tress?

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.

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 scaped; 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 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.

[Exeunt.

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 mast d'e, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light: If I querch thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me:-But once put out thine, Thon 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 most 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,

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A sacrifice atoning for thy crime. Has taken measures.

would not have thee linger in thy pain.So, so..

Emil. [Within.] What ho! my lord, my lord! Oth. Who's there?

Emil. [Within.] O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you.

Oth. Yes;-'tis Emilia :-by and by.-She's dead.
Ts like she comes to speak of Cassio's death:
The noise was high.-Ha! no more moving?
Soll as the grave. Shall she come in? Were't
good?

Ithink, she stirs again :-No.-What's the best?
If she come in, she'l! sure speak to my wife:
My wife! my wife! What wife ?-I have no wife:
0, insupportable! O heavy hour!

Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse

Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe Should yawn at alteration.

Emil. Within.] I do beseech you I may speak with you,

0, good my lord!

Oth. I had forgot thee: 0, come in, Emilia :Soft,-by and by:-Let me the curtains draw,Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now ? [Unlocks the Door.

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Des. Nobody; I myself; farewell:

Commend me to my kind lord; 0, farewell. [Dies.
Oth. Why, how should she be murder'd?
Emil. Alas, who knows?

Oth. You heard her say herself, it was not J.
Emil She said so; I must needs report the truth.
Oth. She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell;

Twas I that kill'd her.

Emil. O, the more angel she,

And you the blacker devil!

Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore. Emil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. Oth. She was false as water.

Emil. Thou art rash as fire, to say

That she was false; O, she was heavenly true.
Oth. Cassio did tup her; ask thy husband else.
0, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity; thy husband knew it all.
Emil. My husband ?

Oth. Thy husband.

Emil. That she was false to wedlock?

Oth. Ay, with Cassio.

Nay, had she been true,

If heaven would make me such another world

Of one entire and perfect chrysolite +,

I'd not have sold her for it.

Emil. My husband?

Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first;

An honest man he is, and hates the slime
That sticks on filthy deeds.

Emil. My husband?

• It is supposed that some theatrical direction has been omitted, and that, when Othello says, So so, he then stabs her. After the repetition of wounds, Desdemona might speak again with propriety, and yet very soon expire. + A precious stone.

Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say, thy husband.

Emil. O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!

My husband say, that she was false?
Oth. He, woman;

I say, thy husband': Dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a day! He lies to the heart;
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
Oth. Ha!

Emil. Do thy worst:

This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,
Than thou wast worthy her.

Oth. Peace, you were best.

Emil, Thou hast not half the power to do me harm,

As I have to be hurt t. O gull! O dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed,~
I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
Though I lost twenty lives:-Help! help, ho!
help!
The Moor has kill'd my mistress; Murder! murder!
Enter MONTANO, Gratiano, and Iago.

Mon. What is the matter?-How now, general? Emil. O, are you come, lago? you have done well,

That men must lay their murders ou your neck.
Gra. What is the matter?

Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man:
He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false:
I know, thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain;
Speak, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no

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Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak;

My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed.
All. O heavens forefend !!

Emil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed.
Gra. Tis a strange truth.

Mon. O monstrous act!

Emil. Villainy, villainy, villainy !—

I think upon't, I think, I smellt:-O villainy !
I thought so then ;-P'll kill myself for grief.—
O villainy, villainy!

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 shews 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 turp
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation.

Oth. "Tis pitiful: but yet lago knows,
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it
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 hadkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

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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?

[Iago 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 wife.

Emil. Ay, ay; O lay me by my mistress' side! Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this

weapon,

Which I have here recover'd from the Moor: Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain, For 'tis a damn'd slave.

[Exeunt Montano and Gratiano. Oth. I am not valiant neither,

But every puny whipster gets my sword:-
But why should honour outlive honesty?
Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in music;-Willow, willow, willow.—
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die,-I die.

[Dies.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice brook's temper+;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 ine, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What is the matter?

Oth. Behold! I have a weapon;

A better never did itself sustain

Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day,
That, with this little arm, and this good sword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your stop:- But, O vain boast!
Who can control his fate? 'Tis not so now —
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-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 all-starr'd wench!
Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
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? 01010!

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Oth. That's he, that was Othello; here I am.
Lod. Where is that viper? Bring the villain fort kı
Oth. I look down towards his feet;-but that':
a fable:

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.
[Othello wounds Iago.

Lod. Wrench his sword from him.
Iago. I bleed, Sir; but not kill'd.

Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live ; For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. O thou Othello, that was once so good,
Fall'n in the practice t of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

Oth. Why, any thing:

An honourable murderer, if you will;

For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

Lod. This wretch hath in part cónfess'd his vil-
Jainy:

Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
Oth. Ay.

Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause.
Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

Will you, I pray you, demand that demi-devil,
Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?
Iago. Demand me nothing: what you know, you
know:

From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lod. What? not to pray?

Gra. Torments will ope your lips.
Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath be fall'n,

Which, as I think, you know not: here is a letter,
Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;
And here, another: the one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Roderigo.

Oth. O villain!

Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross!

Lod. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damn'd villain; But that, belike, Jago in the interim Came in and satisfied him.

Oth. O the pernicious caitiff !—

How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Cas. I found it in my chamber:

And he himself confess'd, but even now,
That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose,
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth. O fool! fool! fool!

Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,-
How he upbraids lago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was cast and even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead,-Lago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us;
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,-
If there be any cunning cruelty,

That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be unknown
To the Venetian state :-Come, bring him away.
Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go,
I have done the state some service, and they

know it;

No more of that:-I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you
speak

Of one, that loved not wisely, but too well;
Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought,
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand,
Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away,
Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued
eyes,

Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum: set you down this:
And say, besides,-that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian, and traduced the state,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him-thus

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[Stabs himself.

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ACT I.

SCENE I.—A public Place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with Swords and Bucklers.

Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh, Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of Montagues t.

Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.

Gre. How? Turn thy back, and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Gre. No, marry: I fear thee!

Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

take it as they list.
Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they

bear it.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay?
Gre. No.

Sam.. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry Sir; but I bite my thumb, Sir.

Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you,

coals.

Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.

Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.

Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.

Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move is-to stir; and to be valiant isto stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou run'st away.

Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

Gre. That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall :-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men.

Sam. Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids ?

Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir?

Abr. Quarrel, Sir? No, Sir.

Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.

Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, Sir.

Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance.

Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Sam. Yes, better, Sir.

Abr. You lie.

Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their Swords.

Enter TY BALT.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart-
less hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the
word,

Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maid. As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: enheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries.

Have at thee, coward.

[They fight.

• Poor John is hake, dried and salted.

+ The disregard of concord is in character.

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