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Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't .
Des. O, my fear interprets,—what, is he dead?
Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had stomach for them all.
Des. Alas! he is betray'd, and I undone.
Oth. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face?
Des. O banish me, my lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Down, strumpet!
Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.
Oth. Nay, if you strive.—
Des. But half an hour.
Oth. 'Being done,
There is no pause.
Des. But while I say one prayer.
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.— So, so.
Emil. [within.] What ho, my lord! my lord! Oth. Who's there?
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? Weie't good?
I think she stirs again.—No.—What's best to do?
If she come in she'll sure speak to my wife:
Emil. [within.] I do beseech you that I may speak with you, O, good my lord!
Oth. I had forgot thee: O, come in, Emilia:—. Soft,-—by-and-by :—let me the curtains draw.— Where art thou? [Unlocks the door.
Enter Emilia. What's the matter with thee now? Emil. O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders
done. Oth. What? now?
Emil. But now, my lord!
Oth. It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.
Emil. Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian, Call'd Roderigo.
Oth. Roderigo kill'd!
And Cassio kill'd!
Emil. No, Cassio is not kill'd.
Oth. Not Cassio kill'd? Then murder's out
And sweet revenge grows harsh.
Oth. That! what?
Emil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice:—
Help ! help, ho! help !—O lady, speak again! Sweet Desdemona! O, sweet mistress, speak!
Des. A guiltless death I die.
Emil. O, who hath done this deed?
Des. Nobody; I myself; farewell: Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell.
Oik. Why, how should she be murder'd?
Oth. You heard her say herself, it was not I.
Oth. She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell; 'Twas I that kill'd her.
Emil. O, the more angel she,
And you the blacker devil!
Oth. She turn'd 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 top her: ask thy husband else. O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell, But that I did proceed upon just grounds To this extremity: thy husband knew it all.
Emil. My husband?
Oth. Thy husband.
Emil. That she was false to wedlock?
Had she been true,
If Heaven would make me such another world
Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me on her first;
Emil. My husband?
Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say thy husband.
Emil. O mistress, villany 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 lago.
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.
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 that power to do me harm,
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
The Moor hath kill'd my mistress. Murder! murder I
Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
He says, thou toldst him that his wife was false:
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.
Emil. 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!