Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd. weapon, Take you this 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. Oth. [Exeunt Montano and Gratiano. I am not valiant neither, : But every puny whipster gets my sword :- Emi. What did thy song bode, lady? [dies. Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber; It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper ;- 1 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. me; Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee. 1 Steel is hardened by being put red-hot into very colu water. 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, Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd: 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, Dead? O! O! O! Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers, with IAGO, prisoner. Lo. Where is this rash and most unfortunate man? Oth. That's he, that was Othello: here I am. If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee. [Othello wounds Iago. Lo. Wrench his sword from him. Iago. For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die. Lo. O thou Othello, that was once so good, Fallen in the practice 2 of a cursed slave ;- Oth. Why, any thing: An honorable murderer, if you will; For naught I did in hate, but all in honor. Lo. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany.— 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, 1 i. e. to see if his feet be cloven. 2 By the stratagem. Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body? know. From this time forth I never will speak word. you Torments will ope your lips. Oth. Well, thou dost best. Lo. Sir, you shall understand what hath befallen, 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 By Roderigo. Oth. O villain! Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross! Lo. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain; But that, belike, Iago in the interim Came in and satisfied him. And he himself confess'd, but even now, That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose, O fool! fool! fool! Oth. That I was cast: and even but now he spake, Your power and your with us: Lo. You must forsake this room, and go That can torment him much, and hold him long, I have done the state some service, and they know it; No more of that.—I pray you, in your letters, 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; Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees |