Emil. Cassio, my lord, has killed a young Vene Oth. Not Cassio kill'd? Then murder's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh. Des. O, falsely, falsely murder'd! Emil. Oth. That! what? Alas! what cry is that? Emil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice:Help! help, ho! help!-O lady, speak again! Sweet Desdemona! O, sweet mistress, speak! Des. A guiltless death I die. Emil. This deed? Des. O, who hath done Nobody; I myself; farewell: Commend me to my kind lord; O, farewell. [Dies. Emil. O, the more angel she, And you the blacker devil! Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore. Emil. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false; O, she was heavenly true! Oth. Thy husband. Emil. That she was false to wedlock? Oth. Nay, had she been true, Ay, with Cassio If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite,2 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? Oth. What needs this iterance,3 woman? I say, thy husband. Emil. O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love! My husband say, that she was false? He, woman. Oth. t; 3 Repetition. 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. 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 MON FANO, GRATIANO, and IAGO. Mon. What is the matter!-How now, general? Emil. O, are you come, Iago? you have done well, That men must lay their murders on 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 more Than what he found himself was apt and true. Emil. But did you ever tell him, she was false? Iago. I did. Emil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie: She false with Cassio!—Did you say with-Cassio? Iago. With Cassio, mistress; Go to, charm your tongue. Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak; My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed. 4" More can I bear than you dare execute." All. O heavens fore fend!5 Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. Mon. O monstrous act! Emil. Villainy, villainy, villainy !— I think upon't, I think,-I smell't;-O 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. 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 shows 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 turn, Yea, curse his better angel from his side, And fall to reprobation. Oth. "Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows, That she with Cassio hath the act of shame A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it: With that recognizance and pledge of love Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! Iago. Come, hold your peace. Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace, sir? no; No, I will speak as liberal as the air; Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, Emil. O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of, I found by fortune, and did give my husband; (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) Iugo. Villainous whore! Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did give't my husband. Iago. Filth, thou liest. Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen: O murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool 6 Free. |