This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven,
Than thou wast worthy her.
Oth.
Peace, you were best.
Emil. Thou hast not half the 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 has kill'd my mistress; Murder! murder!

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 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.

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 My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed. [speak; All. O heavens forfend !

Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed. Gra. "Tis a strange truth.

Mon. O monstrous act! Emil.

Villany, villany, villany I think upon't, I think,-I smell't;-O villany!thought so then ;-I'll kill myself for grief. O villany, villany! [home. Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now: Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home. Oth. O! O! O! Emil.

[Hanging over his wife. Nay, lay thee down, and roar. For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, That e'er did lift up eye.

[Rising.

Oth. 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 shews horrible and grim.

Gra. 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.

Oth. '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.

Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers! Iago. Come, hold your peace. Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace, sir? No, I will speak as liberal as the air; [no; 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.

Your sword upon a woman?

Emil. 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.

Villainous whore! Emil. She gave it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, And I did give 't my husband.

Iago.

Filth, thou liest. Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen: O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool Do with so good a wife?

[IAGO stabs EMILIA, then runs out. Oth. Are there no stones in heaven, But what serve for the thunder?-Precious villain! Gra. The woman falls; sure he has kill'd his wife. Emil. Ay, ay: O lay me by my mistress' side! Gra. He's gone, but his wife's kill'd. [pon, Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weaWhich 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. 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, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in music ;-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.

[dear;

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
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?
Oth.

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, Ó 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, 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?
Dead? O! O! O!

If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.
[OTHELLO wounds IAGO.
Lod. Wrench his sword from him.
lago.
I bleed, sir; but not kill'd.
Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live;
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. O thou Othello, that was once so good,
Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave
What shall be said to thee?

Oth.

Why, any thing: An honourable murderer, if you will; For nought I did in hate, but all in honour. Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villany: Did you and he consent in Cassio's death? Oth. Ay.

Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause. Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. Will you, I pray you, 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.
Lod. What? not to pray?
Gra.

Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou dost best.

Lod. 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 By Roderigo.

Oth. O villain ! Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross! Lod. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain; But that, belike, Iago in the interim Came in and satisfied him.

Oth.

O the pernicious caitiff! How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief That was my wife's?

Cas. I found it in my chamber: And he himself confess'd, but even now, That there he dropp'd it, for a special purpose, Which wrought to his desire.

THE beauties of this play impress themselves so strongly upon the attention of the reader, that they can draw no aid from critical illustration. The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affection, inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate In his revenge; the cool malignity of lago, silent in his resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his interest and his vengeance; the soft simplicity of Desdemoua, confi. dent of merit, and conscious of innocence, her artless perseverance in her suit, and her slowness to suspect that she can be suspected, are such proofs of Shakspeare's skill in human nature, as, I suppose, it is vain to seek in any modern writer. The gradual progress which lago makes in the Moor's conviction, and the circumstances which he employs to enflame him, are so artfully natural, that, though it will perhaps not be said of him as he says of himself, that he is a man not easily jealous, yet we cannot but pity him, when at last we find hini perplexed

in the extreme.

There is always danger, lest wickedness, conjoined with abi. lities, should steal upon esteem, though it misses of approbation;

Oth.

O fool! fool! fool!
Cas. There is, besides, in Roderigo's letter,-
How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was cast: And even but now he spake,
After long seeming dead,-lago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Lod. You must forsake this room, and go with us;
Your power and your command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,-
If there be any cunning cruelty,
It shall be his: You shall close prisoner rest,
That can torment him much, and hold him long,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian state:-Come, bring him away.

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, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well; Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand, Like the base Júdean, threw a pearl away, Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdu'd eyes, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Albeit unused to the melting mood, Their medicínal gum: Set you down this: And say, besides,-that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,

I took by the throat the circumcised dog,

And smote him-thus.

Lod. O bloody period!
Gra.

[Stabs himself.

All, that's spoke, is marr'd.

Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee;-No way but this. [Falling upon DESDEMONA Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. (Dies Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon; For he was great of heart.

Lod.

O Spartan dog, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea! Look on the tragic loading of this bed; [To Lace This is thy work: the object poisons sight;Let it be hid.-Gratiano, keep the house, And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor, For they succeed to you.-To you, lord governor, Remains the censure of this hellish villain; The time, the place, the torture,-O enforce it! Myself will straight aboard; and, to the state, This heavy act with heavy heart relate. [Exeunt.

but the character of Iago is so conducted, that he is from the first scene to the last hated and despised.

Even the inferior characters of this play would be very spicuous in any other piece, not only for their justness, but their strength. Cassio is brave, benevolent, and bonest; ruled only by his want of stubbornness to resist an insidious invitation. Roderigo's suspicious credulity, and impatient submission to the cheats which he sees practised upon him, and which by persuasion he suffers to be repeated, exhibit a strong picture of 3 weak mind betrayed by unlawful desires to a false friend; and the virtue of Emilia is such as we often find, worn loosely, but not cast off, easy to commit small crimes, but quickened and alarmed at atrocious villanies.

The scenes from the beginning to the end are busy, varied by happy interchanges, and regularly promoting the progression of the story and the narrative in the end, though it tells but was is known already, yet is necessary to produce the death of Othello.

Had the scene opened in Cyprus, and the preceding incidents been occasionally related, there had been little wanting to a drama of the most exact and scrupulous regularity.-JOHNSON.