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Enter Othello, above at a Window..
Oth. The Voice of Caffio, Jago keeps his word.
Rod. O Villain that I am!
Oth. It is even fo.
Caf. Oh help ho! Light! A Surgeon !-
Oth. '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. Strumper I come:
For off my Heart, those Charms thine Eyes, are blotted.
Thy Bed luft-stained, shall with Lust's blood be spotted.
[Exit Othello. Enter Lodovico, and Gratiano. Caf. What hol No Watch ? No Pallage? Murther, Mur. ther?
Gra.'Tis some Mischance, the Voice is very direful.
Caf. Oh help!
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.
Gra. Here's one comes in his Shirt, with Light, and Wea. pons.
Jago. Who's there?
Whose Noise is this that cries out Murther ?
Lod. We do not know.
Jago. Do not you hear a Cry?
Cas. Here, here: For Heav'n fake help me.
Fago. What's the matter?
Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.
Lod. The same indeed, a very valiant Fellow.
Fago. What are you here, that cry fo grievously?
Cas. Jago? Oh I am spoild, undone by Villains?
Give me some Help,
Jago. O me, Lieutenant ! What Villains have done this? Vel. V,
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 damn'd Jago! O inhuman Dog!
Jago. Kill Men i'ch dark? Where be these bloody
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.
Fago. Icry you mercy! here's Caffio hurt by Villains.
Jago. How is't, Brother ?
Caf. My Leg is cut in two.
Fago. Marry Heav'n forbid:
Light Gentlemen, I'll bind it with my Shirt.
Bian. What is the Matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd?
Jago. Who is't that cry'd?
Bian. Oh my dear Callio
My sweet Cassio : Oh Cassio, Caffio, Cassio.
Faga. O notable Strumpet. Caffio, may you suspeat
Who they should be, that have thus mangled you?
Gra. I am sorry to find you thus: I have been to seek you.
Jago. Lend me a Garter. SoOh for a Chair To bear him easily herice.
Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio..
Jago. Gentlemen all; I do fulpect this Trash
To be a Party in this Injury.
Patience a while, good Caffios come, come;
Lend me a Light: Know we this Face, or no?
Alas, my Friend, and my dear Country-man
Rodorigo? No: Yes sure: Yea, 'tis Rodorigea. :)
Grk. What, of Venice? So
Jago. Even he, Sir: did
know him? Gra. Know him? Ah!
Jago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle Pardon:
These bloody Accidents must excuse my Manners,
That so neglected you.
Gra. I am glad to see you.
Jago. How do you, Caslo? Oha Chair, a Chair.
Gra. Rodarigo ?
Jago. 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. Herhac 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 Gentlemen. Look you pale, Mistress?
Do you perceive the Gastness 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.
Amil. Alas, what is the Matter?
What is the Matter, Husband?
Fago. Caffio hath here been set on in the Dark
By Rodorigo, and Fellows that are 'scap'd:
He's almost slain, and Rodorigo quite dead.
Æmil. Alas, good Gentleman! Alas, good Caffio!
Jago. That isthe fruits of whoring. Pritheç Æmilia,
Go know of Casio where he supt to Night.
What do you shake at that?
Bian. He supt at my House, but I therefore shake not:
Jago. O did he 10I charge you go with me.
Æmil. Oh fic upon thee, Strumpet.
Bian. I am no Strumpet, but of Life as honest,
As you chat thus abuse me.
Æmil. As I Fie upon thee.
Jago. Kind Gentlemen: Let's go see poor Caffio dreft
Come Mistress, you must tell's another Tale.
Æmilia, run you to the Cittadel,
And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath hap'd :
Will you go on afore? This is the Night
That either makes me, or foredoes me quite.
SCENE II. A Bed-chamber: Desdemona
is discover'd afleep in her Bed.
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 cunoing'st Pattern of excelling Nature,
I know not where is that Promethean Heat
That can thy Light re-lumine.
When I have pluck'd thy Rose,
I cannot give it vital Growth again,
It needs must wither. I'll smell thee on the Tree; (Killing her.
O balmy Breath, that doft almost perswade
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 that's the last.
So sweet, was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel Tears: This Sorrow's heav'nly
It strikes, where it doth love. She wakes.
Des. Who's there, Othello ?
Oth. Ay, Desdemona.
Des. Will you come to Bed, my Lord ?
Oih. Have you pray'd to Night, Desdemona ?
Desi Ay, my Lord.
Oth. If you bethink your self of any Crime Unreconcil'd as yet to Heav'n, and Grace, Solicit for it straight.
Def. Alack, 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, Heav'ns fore-fend, I would not kill thy Soul.
Def. Talk you of killing?
Oth, Ay, I do.
Des. Then Heav'n have Mercy on me.
Oth. Amen, with all my Heart.
Def. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.
you: For you're fatal then,
: When your Eyes rowl lo.
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 dy's.
Def. That Death's unnatural, that kills for Loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your Nether-lip?
Some bloody Pallion shakes your very Frame;
These are Portents: But yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.
Oth, Peace, and be still.
Def. I will so: What's the matter?
Oth. That Handkerchief
Which I so lov'd, and gave thee, thou gav'st Caffio.
Def. No by my Life and Soul: Send for the Man,
And ask him.
Oth. Sweet Soul, take heed, take heed of Perjury, Thou art on thy Death-bed.
Def. Ay, but not yet to die.
Therefore confess thee freely of thy Sin:
For to deny each Article with Oath,
Cannot remove, nor choak the strong Concepcion ?
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.