Othello

not half that 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 hath kill’d my mistress! Murder! murder! Enter Montano, Gratiano, Iago, and others. Montano What is the matter? How now, general! Emilia

O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.

Gratiano What is the matter? Emilia

Disprove this villain, if thou be’st 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.

Emilia But did you ever tell him she was false? Iago I did. Emilia

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. Emilia

I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:
My mistress here lies murder’d in her bed⁠—

All O heavens forfend! Emilia And your reports have set the murder on. Othello Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed. Gratiano ’Tis a strange truth. Montano O monstrous act! Emilia

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. Emilia

Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:
’Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
Perchance, Iago, I will ne’er go home.

Othello O! O! O! He falls on the bed. Emilia

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

Othello

Rising. O, she was foul!
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.

Gratiano

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.

Othello

’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.

Emilia O heaven! O heavenly powers! Iago Come, hold your peace. Emilia

’Twill out, ’twill out: I peace!
No, I will speak as liberal as the north:
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. Emilia I will not. Iago offers to stab Emilia. Gratiano

Fie!
Your sword upon a woman?

Emilia

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

Iago Villanous whore! 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 woman?

Othello

Are there no stones in heaven
But what serve for the thunder?⁠—Precious villain! He runs at Iago. Iago, from behind, stabs Emilia, and exit.

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 damned slave. Exeunt Montano and Gratiano.

Othello

I am not valiant neither,
But ever 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. Singing. 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.

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 cursed 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 Desdemona! Desdemona! dead!
Oh! Oh! Oh!

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