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My husband?

Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say, thy


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

My husband say, that she was false?


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


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!

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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: says, thou told'st him that his wife was false:


8 villainy hath made mocks with love!] Villainy hath taken advantage to play upon the weakness of a violent passion.

9 Thou hast not half the power to do me harm,

As I have to be hurt.] She means to say,-I have in this cause power to endure more than thou hast power to inflict.

I know, thou did'st 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.

Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak;

My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed.

All. O heavens forfend!

Emil. And your reports have set the murder on.
Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed.
Gra. 'Tis a strange truth.

Mon. O monstrous act!

Villainy, villainy, villainy !— I think upon't, I think,—I smell't;-O villainy!

I thought so then ';-I'll kill myself for grief.—

O villainy, villainy!

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


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!

[Hanging over his Wife.

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

I thought so then ;] i. e. at the instant when she gave Desdemona's handkerchief to Iago; for even then Emilia appears to have suspected it was sought after for no honest purpose, and therefore asks her husband-" What will you do with it?" &c.

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O, she was foul!— [Rising.
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.

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.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers!


Come, hold your peace. Emil. Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace, sir? no;

No, I will speak as liberal' as the air;

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.


I will not.

[IAGO offers to stab his Wife.



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,

2 No, I will speak as liberal —] Liberal is free, under no control.

(More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) He begg'd of me to steal it.


Villainous whore !

Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did give't my husband.


Filth, thou liest.
Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen:
O murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a wife?

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. 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.

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, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in musick;-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.

Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber,


3 Are there no stones in heaven,

But what serve for the thunder?] Shakspeare might mean, does heaven reserve its thunder only to make a noise? has it no implements of mischief to punish as well as terrify?

It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper';-
O, here it is:-Uncle, I must come forth.

Gra. [within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear ;

Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

Re-enter GRATIANO.

Gra. What is the matter?
A better never did itself sustain

Behold! I have a weapon;

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.--
Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.
Do you go back dismay'd? 'tis a lost fear;
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires;-Where should Othello go?-
Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,
And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?
Even like thy chastity.-

O cursed, cursed slave!-Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur


the ice-brook's temper;] This ice-brook was the brook or rivulet called Salo (now Xalon), near Bilbilis in Celtiberia. In this the Spaniards plunged all their swords and other weapons while hot from the forge; and to the icy qualities of the waters they were indebted for their stubborn temper.

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