Othello. William Shakespeare

       EMILIA

       She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it,

       And I did give’t my husband.

       IAGO

       Filth, thou liest!

       EMILIA

       By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.—

       O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool

       Do with so good a wife?

       OTHELLO

       Are there not stones in heaven

       But what serve for thunder?—Precious villain!

       [Iago stabs Emilia, and then runs out.]

       GRATIANO

       The woman falls; sure, he hath kill’d his wife.

       EMILIA

       Ay, ay:—O, lay me by my mistress’ side.

       GRATIANO

       He’s gone, but his wife’s kill’d.

       MONTANO

       ‘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 damnèd slave.

       [Exit Montano and Gratiano.]

       OTHELLO

       I am not valiant neither,

       But every puny whipster gets my sword:—

       But why should honour outlive honesty?

       Let it go all.

       EMILIA

       What did thy song bode, lady?

       Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,

       And die in music:—

       [Sings.]

       “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.

       [Dies.]

       OTHELLO

       I have another weapon in this chamber;

       It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook’s temper:—

       O, here it is.—Uncle, I must come forth.

       GRATIANO

       [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:

       Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.

       OTHELLO

       Look in upon me then, and speak with me,

       Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee.

       [Re-enter Gratiano.]

       GRATIANO

       What is the matter?

       OTHELLO

       Behold, I have a weapon;

       A better never did itself sustain

       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 cursèd, cursèd slave!—Whip me, ye devils,

       From the possession of this heavenly sight!

       Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!

       Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!—

       O Desdemon! dead, Desdemon! dead! O!

       [Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio carried in a chair, and Officers with Iago prisoner.]

       LODOVICO

       Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

       OTHELLO

       That’s he that was Othello;—here I am.

       LODOVICO

       Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.

       OTHELLO

       I look down towards his feet;—but that’s a fable.—

       If that thou be’st a devil, I cannot kill thee.

       [Wounds Iago.]

       LODOVICO

       Wrench his sword from him.

       IAGO

       I bleed, sir, but not kill’d.

       OTHELLO

       I am not sorry neither: I’d have thee live;

       For, in my sense, ‘tis happiness to die.

       LODOVICO

       O thou Othello, that wert once so good,

       Fall’n in the practice of a damnèd slave,

       What shall be said to thee?

       OTHELLO

       Why, anything;

       An honourable murderer, if you will;

       For naught did I in hate, but all in honour.

       LODOVICO

       This wretch hath part confess’d his villany:

       Did you and he consent in Cassio’s death?

       OTHELLO

       Ay.

       CASSIO

       Dear general, I never gave you cause.

       OTHELLO

       I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.

       Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil

       Why he hath thus ensnar’d my soul and body?

       IAGO

       Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:

       From this time forth I never will speak word.

       LODOVICO

       What, not to pray?

       GRATIANO

       Torments will ope your lips.

       OTHELLO

       Well, thou dost best.

       LODOVICO

       Sir, you shall understand what hath befall’n,

       Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter

       Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo,

       And here another: the one of them imports

       The death of Cassio to be undertook