Emil. It is the wind.

Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for

Sing willow, willow, willow:

If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men. So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; Doth that bode weeping?

Emil.

'Tis neither here nor there. Des. I have heard it said so.-O, these men, these men!

Dost thou in conscience think,—tell me, Emilia,—
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind?

Emil.
There be some such, no question.
Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world?
Emil. Why, would not you?
Des.
No, by this heavenly light.
Emil. Nor I neither by this heavenly light:
I might do't as well i' the dark.

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Emil. The world is a huge thing: 'tis a great price For a small vice. Des. In troth, I think thou would'st not. 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, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but, for the whole world,-why, who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the 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. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many

To the vantage, as would store the world they play'd for.
But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults,
If wives do fall. Say, that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or, say, they strike us,
Or scant our former having in despite,
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 palates, both for sweet and sour,
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,
Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
Then, let them use us well; else, let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us to.

Des. Good night, good night: heaven me such uses send,

Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-A Street.

Enter IAGO and RODERIGO.

Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he

come:

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.
Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll he at thy elbow.
It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't.
Iago. Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.
Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed;
And yet he has given me satisfying reasons.-
'Tis but a man gone :-forth, my sword; he dies.

[Stands back. Iago. I have rubb'd this young quat almost to the

sense,

And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my game: live Roderigo,
He calls me to a restitution large

Of gold, and jewels, that I bobb'd from him,

As gifts to Desdemona;

It must not be: if Cassio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life,

That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him: there stand I in much peril.
No, he must die :-be't so; I hear him coming.

Enter CASSIO.

[Retiring.

Rod. I know his gait; 'tis he.-Villain, thou diest. [Rushing forward, and making a pass at Cassio. Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou know'st:

I will make proof of thine. [Draws, and wounds RODERIGO.

Rod.

O! I am slain.

[IAGO starts forward, cuts Cassio behind in the Leg, and exit.

Cas. I am maim'd for ever.-Light, ho! murder! murder! [Falls.

Enter OTHELLO, at a distance.
Oth. The voice of Cassio.-Iago keeps his word.
Rod. O, villain that I am!

Oth.
It is e'en so.
Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon!

Oth. "Tis he.-O brave Iago! honest, and just,
That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong;
Thou teachest me.-Minion, your dear lies dead,
And your unblest fate hies:-strumpet, I come.
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted.
[Exit OTHELLO.

Enter LODOVICO and GRATIANO, at a distance. Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder!

Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful. Cas. O, help!

Iago.
Did not you hear a cry?
Cas. Here, here! for heaven's sake, help me.
Iago.

What's the matter?
Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it.
Lod. The same indeed; a very valiant fellow.
Iago. What are you here, that cry so grievously?
Cas. Iago? O! I am spoil'd; undone by villains:
Give me some help.

Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this? Cas. I think that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away.

Iago. O treacherous villains!What are you there? come in, and give some help. [To LODOVICO and GRATIANO.

Rod. O, help me! here. Cas. That's one of them. Iago.

O murderous slave! O villain! [IAGO stabs RODERIGO. Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!lago. Kill men i' the dark!-Where be these bloody thieves?

How silent is this town!-Ho! murder! murder!
What may you be? are you of good, or evil?
Lod. As you shall prove us, praise us.
Iago. Signior Lodovico?

Bian. What is the matter, ho? who is't that cry'd? Iago. Who is't that cry'd!

Bian. O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!

Iago. O notable strumpet!-Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be, that have thus mangled you? Cas. No.

Gra. I am sorry, to find you thus: I have been to seek you.

Iago. Lend me a garter:-so.-O, for a chair, To bear him easily hence!

Bian. Alas! he faints.-O Cassio! Cassio! Cassio! Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury.Patience a while, good Cassio.-Come, come. Lend me a light.-Know we this face, or no?

[Looking at ROD. Alas! my friend, and my dear countryman, Roderigo? no:-yes, sure. O heaven! Roderigo. Gra. What, of Venice?

I am glad to see you.

Iago. How do you, Cassio?-O, a chair, a chair! Gra. Roderigo!

Iago. He, he, 'tis he.-O! that's well said;-the chair.[A chair brought. 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 you? Cas. None in the world; nor do I know the man.

Iago. What, look you pale?—O, bear him out o'the air.[CASSIO and ROD. are borne off. Stay you, good gentlemen.-Look you pale, mistress! Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?— Nay, an you stir:-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 EMILIA.

Emil. Alas! 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!
Iago. 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

Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale.-
Emilia, run you to the citadel,

And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd.-
Will you go on, I pray?-This is the night, [Aside.
That either makes me, or fordoes me quite. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-A Bedchamber.

DESDEMONA in Bed asleep. A Light burning.

Enter OTHELLO, locking the Door after him.
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.
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 thy light,
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 the

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 so 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?

Oth. What needs this iteration, woman? I say, thy husband.

Emil. O mistress! villainy hath made mocks with love.

My husband say, that she was false?
Oth.
He, woman;
I say, thy husband: dost understand the word?
My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.
Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.
Oth. Ha!

[Threatening her.

Emil. Do thy worst:
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,
Than thou wast worthy her.

Oth.
Peace! you were best.
Emil. Thou hast not half the power to do me harm,
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed,—
I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
Though I lost twenty lives.-Help! help, ho! help!
The Moor has kill'd my mistress! Murder! murder!

Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, and Isgo.
Mon. What is the matter?-How now, general!
Emil. O! are you come, Iago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
Gra. What is the matter?

Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man :
He says, thou told'st him that his wife was false.
I know, thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full.

Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no more Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Emil. But did you ever tell him, she was false?
Iago. I did.

Emil. You told a lie; an odious, damned lie;
Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie.-

She false with Cassio!-Did you say with Cassio? Iago. With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your

tongue.

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

Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak: "Tis proper I obey him, but not now.— Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.

Oth. O! O! O! Emil.

[Falling on the Ground, Nay, lay thee down and roar, For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, That e'er did lift up eye.

Oth.

O! she was foul.— [Starting up.

I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece, Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd. I know, this act shows terrible and grim.

Gra. 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 reprobation.

Oth. '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.

Come, hold your peace.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers!
Iago.
Emil. "Twill out, 'twill out:-I hold my peace,
sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal as the wind.
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.
Emil.

Gra.

[Drawing. I will not. [IAGO offers to stab EMIL. Fie!

Your sword upon a woman?

Emil. 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.
Villainous whore! [They hold him.
Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas ! I found it,
And I did give 't my husband.

Iago. Filth, thou liest. [Stabs her, and exit instantly. Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen. O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool Do with so good a wife?

Oth. Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder?-Precious villain ! Gra. The woman falls: sure, he has kill'd his wife. Emil. Ay, ay.-O, lay me by my mistress' side! Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. "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 damned slave.

[Exeunt MONTANO and GRATIANO. Oth. I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets my sword. But why should honour outlive honesty? Let it go all.

Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in music :- Willow, willow, willow.— Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor: