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- Edition: Othello
Othello (Folio 1, 1623)
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the Moore of Venice. 335
3154And cannot make away.
3155Iago. Oh treacherous Villaines:
3156What are you there? Come in, and giue some helpe.
3157Rod. O helpe me there.
3158Cassio. That's one of them.
3159Iago. Oh murd'rous Slaue! O Villaine!
3160Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhumane Dogge!
3161Iago. Kill men i'th'darke?
3162Where be these bloody Theeues?
3163How silent is this Towne? Hoa, murther, murther.
3164What may you be? Are you of good, or euill?
3166Iago. Signior Lodouico?
3167Lod. He Sir.
3170Iago. How is't Brother?
3171Cas. My Legge is cut in two.
3172Iago. Marry heauen forbid:
3173Light Gentlemen, Ile binde it with my shirt.
3174Enter Bianca.
3175Bian. What is the matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd?
3176Iago. Who is't that cry'd?
3180Who they should be, that haue thus mangled you?
3181Cas. No.
3183I haue beene to seeke you.
3184Iago. Lend me a Garter. So: ---Oh for a Chaire
3185To beare him easily hence.
3188To be a party in this Iniurie.
3189Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;
3190Lend me a Light: know we this face, or no?
3191Alas my Friend, and my deere Countryman
3192Rodorigo? No: Yes sure: Yes, 'tis Rodorigo.
3193Gra. What, of Venice?
3194Iago. Euen he Sir: Did you know him?
3195Gra. Know him? I.
3196Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle pardon:
3201Gra. Rodorigo?
3202Iago. He, he, 'tis he:
3203Oh that's well said, the Chaire.
3204Some good man beare him carefully from hence,
3205Ile fetch the Generall's Surgeon. For you Mistris,
3207Was my deere friend. What malice was between you?
3208Cas. None in the world: nor do I know the man?
3210Stay you good Gentlemen. Looke you pale, Mistris?
3213Behold her well: I pray you looke vpon her:
3215Though tongues were out of vse.
3216AEmil. Alas, what is the matter?
3217What is the matter, Husband?
3219By Rodorigo, and Fellowes that are scap'd:
3224What, do you shake at that?
3229As you that thus abuse me.
3230AEmil. As I? Fie vpon thee.
3231Iago. Kinde Gentlemen:
3234AEmilia, run you to the Cittadell,
3235And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath happ'd:
3236Will you go on afore? This is the night
3237That either makes me, or foredoes me quight. Exeunt
3238Scoena Secunda.
3239Enter Othello, and Desdemona in her bed.
3241Let me not name it to you, you chaste Starres,
3246Put out the Light, and then put out the Light:
3248I can againe thy former light restore,
3249Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light,
3250Thou cunning'st Patterne of excelling Nature,
3251I know not where is that Promethaean heate
3252That can thy Light re-Lume.
3253When I haue pluck'd thy Rose,
3254I cannot giue it vitall growth againe,
3257Iustice to breake her Sword. One more, one more:
3258Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
3259And loue thee after. One more, and that's the last.
3261But they are cruell Teares: This sorrow's heauenly,
3265Des. Will you come to bed, my Lord?
3267Des. I my Lord.
3269Vnreconcil'd as yet to Heauen, and Grace,
3270Solicite for it straight.
3271Des. Alacke, my Lord,
3272What may you meane by that?
3273Oth. Well, do it, and be breefe, I will walke by:
3274I would not kill thy vnprepared Spirit,
3275No, Heauens fore-fend) I would not kill thy Soule.
3276Des. Talke you of killing?
3277Oth. I, I do.
3278Des. Then Heauen haue mercy on mee.
Oth.