lago. He, he, 'tis he :-0, that's well said ;-the chair :

(A chair brought in. Some good man bear him carefully from hence; I'll fetch the general's surgeon.—For you, mistress,

(To Bianca. Save you your labour. He that lies slain here,

Cassio, Was my dear friend : What malice was between

Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man. lago. [To Bian.) What, look you pale?-0, bear him out o'the air.

(Cassio and Rod. are borne off. Stay you, good gentlemen :-Look you pale, mis

tress? Do you perceive the ghastness of her eye ?Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon :Behold her well ; I pray you, look upon her; Do you see, gentlemen ? nay, guiltiness will speak, Though tongues were out of use.

you?

Enter Emilia.

Emil. 'Las, what's the matter; what's the matter,

husband? Iago. Cassio hath here been set on in the dark, By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scap'd; He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.

Emil. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio ! lago. This is the fruit of whoring.–Pr'ythee,

Emilia, Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night:What, do you shake at that? Bian. He supp'd at my house; but I therefore

shake not. Iago. O, did he so? I charge you, go with me. Emil. Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!

Bian. I am no strumpet; but of life as honest, As you

that thus abuse me. Émil.

As I? foh! fie upon thee ! Iago. Kind gentlemen, let's go see poor Cassio

dress'd :Come, mistress, you must tell us another tale.Emilia, run you to the citadel, And tell my lord and lady what has happ'd.Will you go on, I pray? -- This is the night, (Aside. That either makes me, or fordoes! me quite. (Ere.

SCENE II.— A bed-chamber: Desdemona in bed

asleep. A light burning. Enter Othello. Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars It is the cause.--Yet I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.

[Takes off his sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light: If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me :--but once put out thine, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat, That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy

rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither :-I'll smell it on the tree.

[Kissing her. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword!-One more, one more.-Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after :-One more, and this the last : So sweet was ne'er go fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears : This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes, where it doth love. She wakes

Des. Who's there! Othello?

(1) Undoes.

(2) i. e. The light of life.

Ay, I do.

Oth.

Ay, Desdemona. Des. Will you come to bed, my lord ? Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona ? Des.

Ay, my lord. Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime, Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.

Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?

Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by : I would not kill thy unprepared spirit; No Heaven forfend!L-I would not kill thy soul. Des. Talk

you

of killing? Oth. Des.

Then, heaven Have mercy on me! Oth.

Amen, with all my heart! Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. Oth. Humph : Des. And yet I fear you : for you are fatal then, When your eyes roll so : Why I should fear, I know

not, Since guiltiness I know not; but yet, I feel, I fear.

Oth. Think on thy sins.
Des.

They are loves I bear to you.
Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest.
Des. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:
These are portents; but yet, I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.
Oth

Peace, and be still. Des. I will so: What's the matter?

Oth. That handkerchief, which I so lov'd, and Thou gav'st to Cassio. Des.

No, by my life and soul; Send for the man, and ask him.

gave thee,

(1) Forbid.

ܪ

Oth.

Sweet soul, take heed, Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed.

Des. Ay, but not yet to die.
Oth.

Yes, presently:
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
For to deny each article with oath,
Cannot remove, nor choke, the strong conception,
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me!
Oth.

I say, amen.
Des. And have you mercy too ”I never did
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio,
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love: I never gave him token.
Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his

hand.
O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st me call, what I intend to do,-
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice:1
I saw the handkerchief.
Des.

He found it then;
I never gave it him :-Send for him hither,
And let him confess a truth.
Oth.

He hath confess'd.
Des. What, my lord ?
Oth. That he hath--us'd thee.
Des.

How? unlawfully? Oth. Ay. Des. He'll not say so. Oth.

No, his mouth is stopp'd; Honest Iago hath ta'en order fort.2

Des. My fear interprets then,-What, is he dead? Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great re

venge Had stomach for them all.

Des. Alas! he is betray'd, and I undone.

a

(1) A sacrifice atoning for thy crime.
(2) Has taken measures.

my face?

Oth. Oat, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to
Des. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Down, strumpet!
Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.
Oth. Nay, if you strive,
Des.

But half an hour.
Oth.

Being done,
There is no pause.
Des.

But while I say one prayer.
Oth. It is too late.

(He smothers her. Emil. [Within.] My lord, my lord! what ho!

my lord! my lord !
Oth. What noise is this?-Not dead? not yet

quite dead?
I, that am cruel, am yet merciful;
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
Emil

. (Within.] What ho! my lord, my lord ! Oth.

Who's there? Emil. (Within.) O, good my lord, I would speak

a word with you.
Oth. Yes ;-'tis Emilia :-by and by.-She's

dead.
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death :
The noise was high.-Ha! no more moving?.
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Were't good?
I think, she stirs again :-No.--What's the best?
If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife :
My wife! my wife! what wife?-I have no wife:
O, insupportable ! O heavy hour!
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe

h

So, so.1

(1) It is supposed that some theatrical direction has been omitted, and that, when Othello says, “So so,' he then stabs her. After the repetition of wounds, Desdemona might speak again with propriety, and yet very soon expire.