Let Heav'n, and Men, and Devils, let them all, Emil. I will not. [Jago offers to ftab his Wife, Gra. Fie, your fword upon a Woman? Amil. Oh, thou dull Moor, That Handkerchief thou fpeak'ft of I found by Fortune, and did give my Husband; More than indeed belong'd to fuch a Trifle, Jago. Villanous Whore ! Emil. She give it Caffio? Alas I found it, And I did give't my Husband, Jago. Filth, thou lieft. Amil. By Heav'n I do not, I do not, Gentlemen: Oh murd'rous Coxcomb, what fhould fuch a Fool. Do with fo good a Wife? [Jago breaks through and wounds his Wife, then runs out. But what ferve for the Thunder? precious Villain! Mon. 'Tis a notorious Villain; take you this Weapon, Which I have recover'd from the Moor: Come, guard the Door without, let him not pass, Oth. I am not valiant neither; But every Puny whipfter gets my Sword. Amil. What did thy Song boad, Lady? [Exit, [Æmilia Dies Oth. Oth. I have another Weapon in this Chamber, It was a Sword of Spain, the Ice brooks temper; Oh here it is: Uncle, I must come forth. Gra. If thou attempt it, it will coft thee dear; Thou haft no Weapon, and perforce must suffer. Oth. Look in upon me then, and fpeak with me, Or naked as I am I will affault thee. Gra. What is the matter? Oth. Behold I have a Weapon : Upon a Soldier's Thigh. I have feen the Day, And he retires. Where fhould Othello go? Now how doft thou look now? Oh ill-ftar'd Wench! From the Poffeffion of this heav'nly fight; Blow me about in Winds, and roaft me in Sulphur, Oh Desdemona! Dead, Desdemona! Dead, dead! Oh, oh! Lod. Where is this rafh, 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 beeft a Devil, I cannot kill thee. [Othello wounds Jago. Lod. Wrench his Sword from him. Jago. Fago. I bleed, Sir, but not kill'd. Oth. I am not forry neither, I'd have thee live ; Lod. Oh thou, Othello, that waft once fo good, Oth. Why any thing; An Honourable Murtherer, if you will: For nought I did hate, but all in Honour, Caf. Dear General, I never gave you Cause, Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your Pardon : Will you, I pray, demand that Demy-Devil, Why he hath thus enfnar'd my Soul and Body. Fago. 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 doft beft. Lod. Sir you fhall understand what hath befaln, By Rodorigo. Oth. O Villain! Caf. Moft heathenifh, and moft grofs. Lod. Now, here's another difcontented Paper Found in his Pocket too ; and this it seems. Rodorigo meant t'have fent this damned Villain; But that belike Jago in the interim Came in, and fatisfy'd him. Oth. O thou pernicious Caitiff! How came you, Caffio, by that Handkerchief Caf. I found it in my Chamber; Which wrought to his defire. Oth. O Fool, Fool, Fool! Caf. There is befides, in Rodorigo's Letter, Lod. You must forfake this room, and go with us; That can torment him much, and hold him long, Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go. Of one that lov'd not wifely, but too well; Drop Tears as faft as the Arabian Trees Lod. Oh bloody Period! A Gra. All that is fpoke is marr'd. [Stabs himself. Oth. I kift thee, e'er I kill'd thee: No way but this, Killing my felf, to die upon a Kifs. [Dies. Caf. |