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;-O 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 Gratiaño, at a distance. Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage?2 murder! murder! Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful. Cas. O, help! Lod. Rod. Hark! 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. Nobody 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? O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help. Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this? O murderous slave! O villan; Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog !— 0! 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? Iago. Signior Lodovico ? I cry you mercy; Here's Cassio hurt Cassio? Lod. He, sir. lago. By villains. Gra. Iago. How is it, brother? Iago. Cas. My leg is cut in two. Marry, heaven forbid !Light, gentlemen; I'll bind it with my shirt. 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:-0 Cassio! Cassio! To be a party in this injury.— Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come; Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him? Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout, Rcd. O, help me here! (1) Out. (2) No passengers. (3) Thick, cloudy. 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! Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night:- 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. Come, mistress, you must tell us another tale.— And tell my lord and lady what has happ'd.- [Takes off his sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light:2 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, Thou gav'st to Cassio. Des. No, by my life and soul; Sweet soul, take heed, Send for the man, and ask him. Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed. Oth. Yes, presently: Thererefore confess thee freely of thy sin; Cannot remove, nor choke, the strong conception, For to deny each article with oath, That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me! Oth. I say, amen. Des. And have you mercy too!-I never did Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio, But with such general warranty of heaven As I might love: I never gave him token. Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand. O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart, I saw the handkerchief. He found it then; That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy I never gave it him :-Send for him hither, [Kissing her. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Ay, Desdemona. Des. Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that? I would not kill thy unprepared spirit; Oth. Ay, I do. Then heaven (2) i. e. The light of life. And let him confess a truth. Oth. What noise is this?-Not dead? not yet quite dead? I, that am cruel, am yet merciful; I would not have thee linger in thy pain.- Emil. [Within.] What ho! my lord, my lord! Oth. Yestis Emilia :-by and by.-She's 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death: Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe Emil. Within.] I do beseech you I may speak O, 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. Enter Emilia. Emil. O, good my lord, yonder's foul murder done. Oth. What? now? Emil. But now, my lord! Oth. It is the very error of the moon; Emil. Cassio, my lord, has killed a young Vc- Call'd-Roderigo. Oth. And Cassio kill'd? Emil. Roderigo kill'd! No, Cassio is not kill'd. Emil. My husband? Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say, Emil. O mistress, villany hath made mocks with My husband say, that she was false? He, woman; Do thy worst: As I have to be hurt. 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, no! help! Oth. Not Cassio kill'd? Then murder's out of The Moor has kill'd my mistress; Murder! murder! tune, Enter Montano, Gratiano, and lago. Mon. What is the matter?-How now, general? well, That men must lay their murders on your neck. Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man: He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false: Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no more Than what he found himself was apt and true. Emil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie; She false with Cassio!--Did you say, with Cassio? Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed. Emil. And your reports have set the murder on Gra. 'Tis a strange truth. Villany, villany, villany!- Iago. "What, are you mad? I charge you, get Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now :- O, she was foul!-[Rising. I know, this act shows horrible and grim. Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead; Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief And fall to reprobation. Oth. 'Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows, That she with Cassio hath the act of shame Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, [Dies. Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. Gra. What is the mater? Behold! I have a weapon; A better never did itself sustain A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it: Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now. And she did gratify his amorous works Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! No, I will speak as liberal' as the air; Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, Gra. Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd; O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils, Your sword upon a woman? I will not. Fie! Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou I found by fortune, and did give my husband; (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) Villanous whore! no, alas; I found it, Filth, thou liest. Emil. She gave it Cassio! Oth. [Iago stabs Emilia, then runs out. 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! Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, Which I have here recover'd from the Moor: (1) Free. (2) Steel is hardened by being put red-hot into very cold water. O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead? Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio, carried in a Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate Oth. Ay. Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause. From this time forth I never will speak word. Torments will ope your lips. Which, as I think, you know not: Here is a letter, By Roderigo. Oth. O villain! Most heathenish, and most gross! Oth. How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief Cas. Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee;-No way weapon; For he was great of heart. [Dies. Lod. [Exeunt. The beauties of this play impress themselves so strongly upon the attention of the reader, that they can draw no aid from critical illustration. The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent O the pernicious caitiff!-in his affection, inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate in his revenge; the cool malignity of lago, silent in his resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his interest and his vengeance; the soft simplicity of Desdemona, confident of merit, and conscious of innocence, her artless perseverance in her suit, and her slowness to suspect that she can be suspected, are such proofs of Shakspeare's skill in human nature, as, I suppose, it is vain to seek in any modern writer. The gradual progress which Iago makes in the Moor's conviction, and the circumstances which he employs to inflame him, are so artfully natural, that, though it will, perhaps, not be said of him as he says of himself, that he is a man not easily jealous, yet we cannot but pity him, when at last we find him perplexed in the extreme. I found it in my chamber: Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us; That can torment hira much, and hold him long, Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go. Albeit unused to the melting mood, Lod. O bloody period! [Stabs himself All, that's spoke, is marr'd. (1) Judgment. There is always danger, lest wickedness, conjoined with abilities, should steal upon esteem, though it misses of approbation; but the character of lago is so conducted, that he is from the first scene to to the last hated and despised. Even the inferior characters of this play would be very conspicuous in any other piece, not only for their justness, but their strength. Cassio is brave, benevolent, and honest, ruined only by his want of stubbornness to resist an insidious invitation. Roderigo's suspicious credulity, and impa tient submission to the cheats which he sees practised upon him, and which, by persuasion, he suffers to be repeated, exhibit a strong picture of a weak mind, betrayed by unlawful desires, to a false friend; and the virtue of Emilia is such as we often find, worn loosely, but not cast off, easy to commit small crimes, but quickened and alarmed at atrocious villanies. The scenes from the beginning to the end are busy, varied by happy interchanges, and regularly promoting the progression of the story; and the narrative in the end, though it tells but what is known already, yet is necessary to produce the death of Othello. Had the scene opened in Cyprus, and the preceding incidents been occasionally related, there had been little wanting to a drama of the most exact and scrupulous regularity. JOHNSON. FINIS. |