[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.
IAGO.
I bleed, sir, but not kill'd.
OTH.
I am not sorry neither, I'ld 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 of a [damned] slave,
What shall be said to thee?
OTH.
Why, any thing:
An honorable murderer, if you will;
For nought I did in hate, but all in honor.
LOD.
This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy.
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, demand that demi-devil
Why he hath thus ensnar'd 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 befall'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 t' have sent this damned villain;
But that, belike, Iago in the [nick]
Came in and satisfied him.
OTH.
O thou pernicious caitiff! –
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wive's?
CAS.
I found it in my chamber:
And he himself confess'd it 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 Iago, 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) Iago 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 known
To the Venetian state. Come, bring away.
OTH.
Soft you; a word or two before you go.
I have done the state some service, and they know't –
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 lov'd not wisely but too well;
Of one not easily jealious, but being wrought,
Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand
(Like the base [Indian]) threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdu'd eyes,
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drops tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinable gum. Set you down this;
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian and traduc'd the state,
I took by th' throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him – thus.
[He stabs himself.]
LOD.
O bloody period!
GRA.
All that is spoke is marr'd.
OTH.
I kiss'd thee ere I kill'd thee. No way but this,
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
[Falls on the bed and] dies.
CAS.
This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
For he was great of heart.
LOD [To Iago.]
O Spartan dog,
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragic loading of this bed;
This is thy work. The object poisons sight,
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed on you. To you, Lord Governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain,
The time, the place, the torture, O, enforce it!
Myself will straight aboard, and to the state
This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
Exeunt.
.
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