EMIL.

Thou art rash as fire to say

That she was false. O, she was heavenly true!

OTH.

Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.

O, 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'ld not have sold her for it.

EMIL.

My husband?

OTH.

Ay, 'twas he that told me on her first.

An honest man he is, and hates the slime

That sticks on filthy deeds.

EMIL.

My husband?

OTH.

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

EMIL.

O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love!

My husband say 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 th' heart.

She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.

OTH.

Hah?

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 that pow'r 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 hath kill'd my mistress! Murther, murther!

 

Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago, [with others].

 

MON.

What is the matter? How now, general?

EMIL.

O, are you come, Iago? You have done well,

That men must lay their murthers on your neck.

GRA.

What is the matter?

EMIL.

Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man.

He says thou toldst 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 murthered 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 smell't – O villainy!

I thought so then – I'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!

 

[Othello falls on the bed.]

 

EMIL.

Nay, lay thee down and roar;

For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent

That e'er did lift up eye.

OTH [Rising.]

O, she was foul!

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 Desdemon! 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 reprobance.

OTH.

'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago 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 handkerchief, an antique token

My father gave my mother.

EMIL.

O [God]! O heavenly [God]!

IAGO.

['Zounds], hold your peace.

EMIL.

'Twill out, 'twill out! I peace?

No, I will speak as liberal as the north:

Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,

All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.

IAGO.

Be wise, and get you home.

EMIL.

I will not.

 

[Iago offers to stab Emilia.]

 

GRA.

Fie,

Your sword upon a woman?

EMIL.

O thou dull Moor, that handkerchief thou speak'st of

I found by fortune, and did give my husband;

For often, with a solemn earnestness

(More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle),

He begg'd of me to steal't.

IAGO.

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

Do with so good a wife?

OTH.

Are there no stones in heaven

But what serves for the thunder? – Precious villain!

 

[The Moor runs at Iago; Montano disarms Othello; Iago kills his wife.]

 

GRA.

The woman falls; sure he hath kill'd his wife.

EMIL.

Ay, ay! O, lay me by my mistress' side.

 

[Exit Iago.]

 

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 damned slave.

 

Exit [with all but Othello and Emilia].

 

OTH.

I am not valiant neither,

But every puny whipster gets my sword.

But why should honor 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.

 

[Sings.]

 

»Willow, willow, willow.«

Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor;

So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;

So speaking as I think, alas, I die.

 

[Dies.]

 

OTH.

I have another weapon in this chamber;

It was 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 me,

Or naked as I am I will assault thee.

 

[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 ill-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 Desdemon! dead, Desdemon! dead!

O, O!

 

Enter Lodovico, Cassio [in a chair], Montano, and Iago [guarded], with Officers.

 

LOD.

Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

OTH.

That's he that was Othello; here I am.

LOD.

Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.

OTH.

I look down towards his feet; but that's a fable.

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

 

[Wounds Iago.]

 

LOD.

Wrench his sword from him.