LITMIR.BIZ

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I thought so then;—I’ll kill myself for grief:—

       O villany, villany!

      IAGO

       What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.

      EMILIA

       Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:

       ‘Tis proper I obey him, but not now.—

       Perchance, Iago, I will ne’er go home.

      OTHELLO

       O! O! O!

       [Hanging over his wife.]

      EMILIA

       Nay, lay thee down and roar;

       For thou hast kill’d the sweetest innocent

       That e’er did lift up eye.

      OTHELLO

       [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.

      GRATIANO

       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 reprobance.

      OTHELLO

       ‘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.

      EMILIA

       O heaven! O heavenly powers!

      IAGO

       Come, hold your peace.

      EMILIA

       ‘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.

      EMILIA

       I will not.

       [Iago offers to stab his wife.]

      GRATIANO

       Fie!

       Your sword upon a woman?

      EMILIA

       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 it.

      IAGO

       Villanous whore!

      EMILIA

       She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it,

       And I did give’t my husband.

      IAGO

       Filth, thou liest!

      EMILIA

       By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.—

       O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool

       Do with so good a wife?

      OTHELLO

       Are there not stones in heaven

       But what serve for thunder?—Precious villain!

       [Iago stabs Emilia, and then runs out.]

      GRATIANO

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

      EMILIA

       Ay, ay:—O, lay me by my mistress’ side.

      GRATIANO

       He’s gone, but his wife’s kill’d.

      MONTANO

       ‘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 damnèd slave.

       [Exit Montano and Gratiano.]

       German

      SCENE IX

       Table of Contents

      OTHELLO

       I am not valiant neither,

       But every puny whipster gets my sword:—

       But why should honour outlive honesty?

       Let it go all.

      EMILIA

       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, I die,—I die.

       [Dies.]

      OTHELLO

       I have another weapon in this chamber;

       It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook’s temper:—

       O, here it is.—Uncle, I must come forth.

      GRATIANO

       [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:

       Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

      OTHELLO

       Look in upon me then, and speak with me,

       Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

       [Re-enter Gratiano.]

      GRATIANO

       What is the matter?

      OTHELLO

       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.—

      

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