Imatges de pàgina
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Emil. In troth I think I should, and undo't when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint Ring, nor for Measures of Lawn, nor for Gowns, Petti.

But for all coats, nor Caps, nor any petty Exhibition. the whole world; why, who would not make her Husband a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should venture Purgatory fort.

Def. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole World.

Æmil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th' World; and having the World for your Labour, 'tis a wrong in your own World, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such Woman.

Amil. Yes, a dozen ; and as many to th' vantage, as would store the World they plaid for. But I do think it is their Husbands Faults IF Wives do fall : Say, that they sack their Duties, And pour our Treasures into foreign Laps, Or else break out in peevith Jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despight; Why we have Galls; and though we have some Grace, Yet have we some Revenge. Let Husbands know, Their Wives have Sense like them; they see and smell, And have their Palats both for sweet and sower, As Husbands have. What is it that they do, When they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is; and doth Affection breed it? I think it doth : Is't frailty that thus errs? It is so too. And have not we Affections ? Defires for fport ? and frailey as Men have? Then let them use us well; else let them know, The ills we do, their ills inftru& us too.

Des. Good night, good night ; Heav'n me such uses send, Not to pick bad from bad; bus by bad, menda [Exeunt,

ACT

A CT v.

V. SCEN E I.
SCENE The Street,

Enter Jago, and Rodorigo.
ERE, stand behind this Bulk, Straight will he

Jago. HERE

come :

Wear thy good Rapier bare, and put it home;
Quick, quick, fear nothing ; I'll be at thy Elbow,
It makes us, or it mars us, think on that,
And fix most firm thy Resolution.

Rod. Be near at Hind, I may miscarry in't.
Fago. Here, at thy hand; behold, and take thy stand.

Rod. I have no great Devotion to the Deed,
And yet he hath given me satisfying Reasons;
'Tis but a Man gone. Forth my Sword; he dies.

Jago. I have rub'd this young Quat almost to the sense,
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Caffio,
Or Casio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my Gain. Live Rodorigo,
He calls me to a restitution large
Of Gold, and Jewels, that I bob'd from him,
As Gifts to Desdemona.
It must not be. If Caffio do remain,
He hath a daily Beauty in his Life,
That makes ine ugly ; and besides the Moor
May unfold me to him; there stand I in much Peril;
No, he must die. But so, I hear him coming. [Exit Jago.

Enter Caffio,
Rod. I know his Gate, 'tis he: Villain thou dyeft.

[He runs at Cassio, and wounds him.
Caf. That thrust had been mine Enemy indeed,
But that my Coat is better than thou know'ft:
I will make proof of thine.
Rod. Oh, I am slain.

[Fight, and both fall. Caf. I am maim'd for ever ; Help hoa ! Murther, murther !

Enter

Enter Othello, above at a Window.
Oth. The Voice of Callio, Jago keeps his word.
Rod. o Villain that I am!
Oth. It is even fo.
Caf. Oh help ho! Light! A Surgeon !

Oih. 'Tis he! O brave Jago, honest and just,
That haft such noble Sense of thy Friend's Wrong,
Thou teachest me. Minion, your Dear lies dead,
And your unbleft Fate highes. Strumpet I come:
For off my Heart, those Charms thine Eyes, are blotted.
Thy Bed luft-stain*d, Mall with Lust's blood be spotted.

[Exit Othello. Enter Lodovico, and Gratiano. Caf. What hol No Watch No Passage? Murther, Mur.

ther

Gra. 'Tis fome Mischance, the Voice is very direful.
Caf. Oh help!
Lod. Hark!
Rod. Oh wretched Villain!

Lod. Two or three groan. 'Tis heavy Night ;
These may be Counterfeits: Let's think’t unsafe
To come into the Cry, without more help.
Rod. No body come: Then shall I bleed to death.

Enter Jago, in his Shirt.
Lod. Hark.

Gra. Here's one comes in his Shirt, with Light, and Wea. pons.

Jago. Who's there?
Whole Noise is this that cries out Murther?

Lod. We do not know.
Fago. Do not you hear a Cry?
Cas. Here, here: For Heav'n fake help me.
Jago. What's the matter?
Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.
Lod. The fame indeed, a very valiant Fellow.

Fago. What are you here, that cry fo grievously?
Cas

. Jago? Oh I am fpoild, undone by Villains Give me some Help.

Jago. O me, Lieutenant ! What Villains have done this? Vol. V.

Caf:

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Caf. I think that one of them is hereabout,
And cannot make away.

Jago. Oh treacherous Villains !
What are you there? Come in, and give some help.

Rod. O help me there.
Caf. That's one of them,
Fago. Oh murd'rous Slave! O Villain! [Jago ftabs him,
Rod. O damnd Jago! O inhuman Dag!

Jago. Kill Men i’th dark? Where be these bloody
Thieves?
How filent is this Town? Ho, Murther! Murther!
What may you be? Are you of Good or Evil?

Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.
Jago. Signior Lodovico.
Lod. He, Sir.
Jago. Icry youmercy! here's Casio hurt by Villains.
Gra. Caffio ?
Fago. How is't, Brother ?
Caf. My Leg is cut in two.

Jago. Marry Heav'n forbid:
Light Gentlemen, I'll bind it with my Shirt.

Enter Bianca.
Bian. What is the Matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd?
Fago. Who is't that cry'd?

Bian. Oh my dear Caffio.
My sweet Caffio : Oh Casio, Casio, Cassio.

Fago. O notable Strumpet. Caffio, may you suspect
Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?

Caf. No.
Gra. I am sorry to find you thus :
I have been to seek you.

Jago. Lend me a Garter. SomOh for a Chair
To bear him easily henice.

Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Cafho, Caffio, Caffio.

Fago. Gentlemen all, I do fulpect this Traih
To be a Party in this Injury.
Patience a while, good Cafias comc, comes
Lend me a Light: Know we this Face, or no?":
Alas, my Friend, and my dear Country-man
Rodorigo? No: Yes sure: Yea, 'tis Rodoriga.
Gré. What, of Venice? '!1.a

Jage

1

Jago. Even he, Sir: did you know him?
Gra. Know him? Ah!

Jago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle Pardoo:
Thele bloody Accidents must excuse my Manners,
That so neglected you.

Gra. I am glad to see you.
Jago. How do you, Cassio? Oha Chair, a Chair.
Gra. Rodarigo ?

Fago. He, he, 'tis he: Oh that's well said, the Chair.
Some good Man bear him carefully from hence,
I'll fetch the General's Surgeon. For you, Mistress,
Save you your Labour. Herhat lyes slain here, Cassio,
Was my dear friend. What Malice was between you?

Caf. None in the World; nor do I know the Man.

Fago. What look you pale? Oh bear him out o'th' Air. Stay you good Gentk men. Look you pale, Mistress? Do you perceive the Gaftness of her Eye? [To Bianca. 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.

,

Enter Æmilia.

Amil. Alas, what is the Matter
What is the Matcer, Husband?

Jago. Caffio hath here been set on in the Dark
By Rodorigo, and Fellows that are 'scap'd:
He's almost Nain, and Rodorigo quite dead.

Æmil. Alas, good Gentleman! Alas, good Caffio !

Jago. That is the fruits of whoring. Prithee Æmilia,
Go know of Caffio where he supt to Night.
What do you shake at that?

Bian. He fupt at my House, but I therefore shake not:
Fago. O did he to? I charge you go with me.
Æmil. Oh fie upon thee, Strumpet.

Bian. I am no Strumpet, but of Life as honest,
As you that thus abuse mę.

Æmil. As I Fie upon thee, i
Fago, Kind Gentlemen: Let's go see poor Cassio dreft.

Come

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