Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Iago, and Rodorigo.
Iago. Heere, stand behinde this Barke, Straight will he come: Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home: Quicke, quicke, feare nothing; Ile be at thy Elbow, It makes vs, or it marres vs, thinke on that, And fixe most firme thy Resolution
Rod. Be neere at hand, I may miscarry in't
Iago. Heere, at thy hand: Be bold, & take thy stand
Rod. I haue no great deuotion to the deed, And yet he hath giuen me satisfying Reasons: 'Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies
Iago. I haue rub'd this yong Quat almost to the sense, And he growes angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Euery way makes my gaine. Liue Rodorigo, He calles me to a restitution large Of Gold, and Iewels, that I bob'd from him, As Guifts to Desdemona. It must not be: If Cassio do remaine, He hath a dayly beauty in his life, That makes me vgly: and besides, the Moore May vnfold me to him: there stand I in much perill: No, he must dye. But so, I heard him comming. Enter Cassio.
Rod. I know his gate, 'tis he: Villaine thou dyest
Cas. That thrust had beene mine enemy indeed, But that my Coate is better then thou know'st: I will make proofe of thine
Rod. Oh, I am slaine
Cassio. I am maym'd for euer: Helpe hoa: Murther, murther. Enter Othello.
Oth. The voyce of Cassio. Iago keepes his word
Rod. O Villaine that I am
Oth. It is euen so
Cas. Oh helpe hoa: Light, a Surgeon
Oth. 'Tis he: O braue Iago, honest, and iust, That hast such Noble sense of thy Friends wrong, Thou teachest me. Minion, your deere lyes dead, And your vnblest Fate highes: Strumpet I come: For of my heart, those Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted. Thy Bed lust-stain'd, shall with Lusts blood bee spotted.
Enter Lodouico and Gratiano.
Cas. What hoa? no Watch? No passage? Murther, Murther
Gra. 'Tis some mischance, the voyce is very direfull
Cas. Oh helpe
Rod. Oh wretched Villaine
Lod. Two or three groane. 'Tis heauy night; These may be counterfeits: Let's think't vnsafe To come into the cry, without more helpe
Rod. Nobody come: then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago.
Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with Light, and Weapons
Iago. Who's there? Who's noyse is this that cries on murther? Lodo. We do not know
Iago. Do not you heare a cry? Cas. Heere, heere: for heauen sake helpe me
Iago. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it
Lodo. The same indeede, a very valiant Fellow
Iago. What are you heere, that cry so greeuously? Cas. Iago? Oh I am spoyl'd, vndone by Villaines: Giue me some helpe
Iago. O mee, Lieutenant! What Villaines haue done this? Cas. I thinke that one of them is heereabout. And cannot make away
Iago. Oh treacherous Villaines: What are you there? Come in, and giue some helpe
Rod. O helpe me there
Cassio. That's one of them
Iago. Oh murd'rous Slaue! O Villaine! Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhumane Dogge! Iago. Kill men i'th' darke? Where be these bloody Theeues? How silent is this Towne? Hoa, murther, murther. What may you be? Are you of good, or euill? Lod. As you shall proue vs, praise vs
Iago. Signior Lodouico? Lod. He Sir