Enter Othello, above at a Window. Oth. The Voice of Caffio, Jago keeps his word. Oth. It is even fo. Caf. Oh help ho! Light! A Surgeon! Oth. 'Tis he! O brave Jago, honeft and juft, That haft fuch noble Senfe of thy Friend's Wrong, Thou teacheft me. Minion, your Dear lies dead, And your unbleft Fate highes. Strumpet I come: For off my Heart, thofe Charms thine Eyes, are blotted. Thy Bed luft-ftain'd, shall with Luft's blood be spotted. [Exit Othello. Enter Lodovico, and Gratiano. Caf. What ho! No Watch? No Paffage? Murther, Mur. ther! Gra.'Tis fome Mifchance, the Voice is very direful. Lod. Hark! Rod. Oh wretched Villain! Lod. Two or three groan. 'Tis heavy Night; Lod. Hark. Gra. Here's one comes in his Shirt, with Light, and Weapons. Jago. Who's there? Whofe Noise is this that cries out Murther? Lod. We do not know. Jago. Do not you hear a Cry? Caf. Here, here: For Heav'n fake help me. Jago. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it. Lod. The fame indeed, a very valiant Fellow. Jago. What are you here, that cry fo grievously? Caf. Jago? Oh I am fpoil'd, undone by Villains? Give me fome Help. Jago. O me, Lieutenant! What Villains have done this? VOL. V. Caf Caf. I think that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away. Jago. Oh treacherous Villains! What are you there? Come in, and give fome help. Caf. That's one of them. Fago. Oh murd'rous Slave! O Villain! [Jago ftabs him, Jago. Kill Men i'th dark? Where be thefe bloody Thieves? How filent is this Town? Ho, Murther! Murther! What may you be? Are you of Good or Evil? Lod. He, Sir. Jago, Icry you mercy! here's Caffio hurt by Villains. Jago. How is't, Brother? Caf. My Leg is cut in two. Light Gentlemen, I'll bind it with my Shirt. Enter Bianca. Bian. What is the Matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd? Bian. Oh my dear Caffio, My fweet Caffio: Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio. Fago. O notable Strumpet. Caffio, may you fufpe& Who they should be, that have thus mangled you? Caf. No. Gra. I am forry to find you thus: I have been to feek you. Fago. Lend me a Garter. So-Oh for a Chair To bear him eafily hence. Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Caffio, Caffio, Caffio.. Patience a while, good Caffio, come, come; Fago. Even he, Sir: did you know him? Gra. Know him? Ah! Fago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle Pardon : Thefe bloody Accidents muft excufe my Manners, That fo neglected you. Gra. I am glad to see you. Jago. How do you, Caffio? Oha Chair, a Chair. Fago. He, he, 'tis he: Oh that's well faid, the Chair. Do you fee, Gentlemen? Nay, Guiltinefs will fpeak, Enter Emilia. Emil. Alas, what is the Matter? Jago. Caffio hath here been fet on in the Dark Emil. Alas, good Gentleman! Alas, good Caffio! What do you shake at that? Bian. He fupt at my Houfe, but I therefore shake not: Jago. O did he fo? I charge you go with me. Emil. Oh fie upon thee, Strumpet. Bian. I am no Strumpet, but of Life as honeft, As you that thus abuse me. Emil. As I Fie upon thee, Jago. Kind Gentlemen: Let's go fee poor Caffio dreft. 002 Come Come Mistress, you must tell's another Tale. And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath hap'd: [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Bed-chamber: Desdemona is difcover'd afleep in her Bed. Enter Othello. Oth. It is the Caufe, it is the Caufe, my Soul, Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light, I know not where is that Promethean Heat That can thy Light re-lumine. When I have pluck'd thy Rofe, I cannot give it vital Growth again, It needs must wither. I'll fmell thee on the Tree; [Kiffing her. Juftice to break her Sword. One more, one more; But they are cruel Tears: This Sorrow's heav'nly Oth. Ay, Defdemona. Def. Will you come to Bed, my Lord? Oth. Have you pray'd to Night, Desdemona? Oth. Oth. If you bethink your felf of any Crime Unreconcil'd as yet to Heav'n, and Grace, Solicit for it ftraight. Def. Alack, my Lord, What may you mean by that? Oth. Well, do it, and be brief, I will walk by? No, Heav'ns fore-fend, I would not kill thy Soul. Oth. Ay, I do. Def. Then Heav'n have Mercy on me. Oth. Amen, with all my Heart. Def. If you fay fo, I hope you will not kill me. Def. And yet I fear you: For you're fatal then, Why I fhould fear I know not, Since Guiltinefs I know not: But yet I feel I fear. Def. They are Loves I bear to you. Def. That Death's unnatural, that kills for Loving. Oth. Peace, and be ftill. Def. I will fo: What's the matter? Which I fo lov'd, and gave thee, thou gav'ft Caffio. Oth. Sweet Soul, take heed, take heed of Perjury, Def. Ay, but not yet to die. Oth. Prefently. Therefore confefs thee freely of thy Sin: For to deny each Article with Oath, Cannot remove, nor choak the ftrong Conception That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. 003 Def. |