Mon. What is the matter? How now Generall? Aemil. Oh, are you come, Iago: you haue done well, That men must lay their Murthers on your necke
Gra. What is the matter? Aemil. Disproue this Villaine, if thou bee'st a man: He sayes, thou told'st him that his wife was false: I know thou did'st not: thou'rt not such a Villain. Speake, for my heart is full
Iago. I told him what I thought, And told no more Then what he found himselfe was apt, and true. Aemil. But did you euer tell him, She was false? Iago. I did. Aemil. You told a Lye an odious damned Lye: Vpon my Soule, a Lye; a wicked Lye. Shee false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio? Iago. With Cassio, Mistris? Go too, charme your tongue
Emil. I will not charme my Tongue; I am bound to speake, My Mistris heere lyes murthered in her bed
All. Oh Heauens, forefend
Emil. And your reports haue set the Murder on
Othello. Nay stare not Masters, It is true indeede
Gra. 'Tis a strange Truth
Mont. O monstrous Acte
Emil. Villany, villany, villany: I thinke vpon't, I thinke: I smel't: O Villany: I thought so then: Ile kill my selfe for greefe. O villany! villany! Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you get you home
Emil. Good Gentlemen, let me haue leaue to speake: 'Tis proper I obey him; but not now: Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home
Oth. Oh, oh, oh
Emil. Nay, lay thee downe, and roare: For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, That ere did lift vp eye
Oth. Oh she was fowle! I scarse did know you Vnkle, there lies your Neece, Whose breath (indeed) these hands haue newly stopp'd: I know this acte shewes horrible and grim
Gra. Poore Desdemon: I am glad thy Father's dead, Thy Match was mortall to him: and pure greefe Shore his old thred in twaine. Did he liue now, This sight would make him do a desperate turne: Yea, curse his better Angell from his side, And fall to Reprobance
Oth. 'Tis pittifull: but yet Iago knowes That she with Cassio, hath the Act of shame A thousand times committed. Cassio confest it, And she did gratifie his amorous workes With that Recognizance and pledge of Loue Which I first gaue her: I saw it in his hand: It was a Handkerchiefe, an Antique Token My Father gaue my Mother
Emil. Oh Heauen! oh heauenly Powres! Iago. Come, hold your peace
Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace? No, I will speake as liberall as the North; Let Heauen, and Men, and Diuels, let them all, All, all, crie shame against me, yet Ile speake
Iago. Be wise, and get you home
Emil. I will not
Gra. Fye, your Sword vpon a Woman
Emil. Oh thou dull Moore, That Handkerchiefe thou speak'st of I found by Fortune, and did giue my Husband: For often, with a solemne earnestnesse, (More then indeed belong'd to such a Trifle) He begg'd of me, to steale't
Iago. Villanous Whore
Emil. She giue it Cassio? No, alas I found it, And I did giu't my Husband
Iago. Filth, thou lyest
Emil. By Heauen I do not, I do not Gentlemen: Oh murd'rous Coxcombe, what should such a Foole Do with so good a wife? Oth. Are there no stones in Heauen, But what serues for the Thunder? Precious Villaine
Gra. The woman falles: Sure he hath kill'd his Wife
Emil. I, I: oh lay me by my Mistris side
Gra. Hee's gone, but his wife's kill'd
Mon. 'Tis a notorious Villain: take you this weapon Which I haue recouer'd from the Moore: Come guard the doore without, let him not passe, But kill him rather. Ile after that same villaine, For 'tis a damned Slaue. Enter.