Will you go on, I pray!-[Aside.]-This is the night That either makes me or foredoes me quite. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Bedchamber. DESDEMONA in bed, asleep. A light burning. Enter OTHELLO. 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. [Takes off his sword. 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 plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again; It needs must wither:-I'll smell it on the tree. Des. Will you come to bed, my lord? Oth. Have you prayed to-night, Desdemona? Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime Des. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that? Oth. Well, do it, and be brief: I will walk by. I would not kill thy unpreparéd spirit: No,-Heaven forefend!-I would not kill thy soul. Des. Talk you of killing? Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin; Des. And have you mercy too!-I never did hand. O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart, He'll not say so. No; his mouth is stopped : Honest Iago hath ta'en order for 't. Des. My fear interprets, then-what, is he dead? Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had stomach for them all. Des. Alas! he is betrayed, and I undone. Oth. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face? Oth. It is too late. [He smothers her. Emil. [within]. My lord, my lord! What ho! my lord, my lord! Oth. What noise is this?-Not dead! not yet quite dead! I that am cruel, am yet merciful: I would not have thee linger in thy pain.- Emil. [within]. What ho! my lord, my lord! Emil. [within]. O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you. Oth. Yes:-'tis Emilia :-by-and-by.-- She's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death: The noise was high.-Ha! no more moving! Still as the grave.-Shall she come in? were 't good? I think she stirs again: no.-What's the best? O, insupportable! O heavy hour! [Dies. Oth. Why, how should she be murdered? Oth. You heard her say herself it was not I. Oth. She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell:"T was I that killed her. Emil. O, the more angel she, And you the blacker devil! Oth. She turned to folly, and she was a whore. Emil Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. Oth. She was false as water. Emil. Thou art rash as fire to say That she was false: O, she was heavenly true! Oth. Cassio did tup her: ask thy husband else. O, I were damned beneath all depth in hell, As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt! Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, and IAGO. 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 beest 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, damnéd lie; Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie.- Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak : My mistress here lies murdered in her bed. Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. Mon. O monstrous act! Villany, villany, villany! I think upon 't,—I think,—I smell 't. O villany! I thought so then.—I 'll kill myself for grief.— O villany, villany! 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. Nay, lay thee down, and roar: For thou hast killed the sweetest innocent That e'er did lift up eye. I know this act shews horrible and grim. Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Oth. "Tis pitiful: but yet Iago knows Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! Emil. "T will out, 't will 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, [IAGO offers to stab his Wife. Gra. Fie! your sword upon a woman! Which I have here recovered from the Moor. Come, guard the door without: let him not pass But kill him rather. I'll after that same villain, For 't is a damnéd 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 loved thee, cruel Moor: So come my soul to bliss as I speak true: So speaking as I think, I die ;-I die. [Dies. Oth. 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. 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? Behold, I have a weapon: Upon a soldier's thigh. I have seen the day Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, Pale as thy smock! When we shall meet at compt, O curséd, curséd slave!-Whip me, ye devils, Enter LODOVICO, MONTANO; CASSIO, carried in a chair; and Officers, with IAGO, prisoner. Lod. Where is this rash 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 beest a devil I cannot kill thee. I bleed, sir; but not killed. Oth. I am not sorry neither: I'd have thee live; For in my sense, 't is happiness to die. Lod. O thou Othello, that was once so good, Fallen in the practice of a curséd slave, What shall be said to thee? Your power and your command is taken off, That can torment him much and hold him long, Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know it: No more of that:-I pray you, in your letters, speak Of one that loved not wisely, but too well; Albeit unused to the melting mood, |