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lago. Sir, there is special Commission come from Venice to depute Caso in Othello's place.

Rod. Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.

Iago. Oh, no ; he goes into Mauritania, and taketh away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingred here by some accident: Wherein none can be fo determinate, as the removing of Caffio.

Rod. How do you mean removing him ?

Iago. Why; by making him incapable of Othollo's Place; knocking out his brains.

Rod. And that you would have me to do?

Iago. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot; and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune; if you will watch his going thence, (which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one) you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall be

Come, fand not amaz'd at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high fupper-time; and the night grows to waste. About it.

Rod. I'will hear further reason for this.
lago. And you shall be fatisfied.


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Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Æmilia, and

Attendants. Lod.


Dó befeech' you, Sir, trouble yourself no
Oth. Oh, pardon me; 'twill do'me good to walk.
Lod. Madam, good-night; I humbly thank your

Des. Your honour is most welcome.



Oth. Will you walk, Sir ? oh, Desdemona !
Def. My lord.

Oth. Get you to bed on th' inftant, I will be return'd forthwith ; dismiss your attendant there ; look, it be done.

Def. I will, my lord.
Æmil. How goes it now? he looks gentler than

he did.
Def. He says, he will return incontinent;
And hath commanded me to go to bed,
And bid me to dismiss you.

Æmil. Dismiss me?

Def. It was his bidding; therefore, good Æmilia,
Give me my nightly Wearing, and adieu.
We must not now displease him.

Æmil. I would, you had never seen him !
Def. So would not l; my love doth so approve

him, That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns, (Pr’ythee, unpin me) have grace and favour in them. Émil. I have laid those sheets, you bad me, on

the bed. Def. All's one: good father ! how foolish are our

minds ? If I do die before thee, pr’ythee, shroud me In one of these same sheets.

Æmil. Come, come; you talk.

Def. My mother had a maid call'd Barbara,
She was in love; and he, she lov'd, forsook her,
And she proved mad : She had a song of willow,
An old thing 'twas, but it express’d her fortune,
And she dy'd singing it. That song to-night
Will not go from my mind; I've much ado,
But to go hang my head all at one side.
And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, dispatch.

Æmil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown ?
Def. No, unpin me here ;
This Lodovico is a proper man.

Æmil. A very handsom man.
Def. he speaks well.

Æmil. I know a lady in Venice would have walk'd
barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
Des. The poor soul sat fonging by a sycamore-tree,
Sing all a green willow :

[Singing. Her hand on her bofom, her head on her knee,

Sing willow, willow, willow :
The fresh stream ran by her, and murmur'd her moans;

Sing willow, &c.
Her salt tears fell from her, and softned the stones;

Sing willow, &c.
Willow, willow, &c.

(Pr’ythee, hye thee, he'll come anon.)
Sing all a green willow must be my garland,
Let no body blame him, his scorn I approve.
Nay that's not next--Hark, who is it that knocks ?

Eemil. It's the wind.
Des. I called my love false love; but what faid he then?

Sing willow, &c.
If I court more women, you'll couch with more men.
So, get thee gone, good-night; mine eyes do itch,
Doth that boad weeping ?
Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there.

Def. I have heard it said fo; so these men, these
Dost thou in conscience think, tell me, Æmilia,
That there be women do abuse their husbands
In such gross kind ?

Æmil. There be some such, no queftion.
Def. Wouldlt thou do such a deed for all the world?

. Why, would not you?
Def. No, by this heav'nly light.

Æmil. Nor 'I neither, by this heav'nly light. I might do't as well i'th' dark.

Def. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?

Æmil. The world's a huge thing,
It is a great price, for a small vice.
Def. In troth, I think, thou wouldst not.

Æmil. In troth, I think, I should ; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps; nor any petty exhi. bition. But for all the whole world ; why who would not make her husband a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venter purgatory for't.

Def. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole world.

Æmil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th' world; and having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. Def

. I do not think, there is any such woman. Æmil. Yes, a dozen; and as many to th' vantage, as Would store the world they play'd for. But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults, If wives do fall: say, that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps; Or elle break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint on us ; or say, they strike us, Or fcant our former Having in despight; Why, we have galls, and tho' we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them; they fee and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and four, As husbands have. What is it that they do, When they change us for others ? is it-sport? I think, it is ; and doth affection breed it ? I think, it doth : is't frailty, that thus errs? It is fo too. And have not we affections ? Delres for sports ? and frailty, as men have ? Then let them use us well; else let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct us to. Def. Good-night, good-night; heaven me fuch

uses send, Not to pick bad from bad ? but by bad, mend! (Exe.



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A Street before the Palace.
Enter Iago and Rodorigo.

ERE, stand behind this bulk. Straight will

he come :
Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home ;
Quick, quick, fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow.
It makes us, or it mars us : think to That,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod! Be near at hand, I may miscarry in't.
Iago. Here, at thy hand; be bold and take thy

sword. Rod. I have no great devotion to the deed, Yet he hath given me satisfying reasons : 'Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword: he dies.

(Stands apart. Iago. I've rubb'd this young Gnát almost to the

And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Caffio.
Or Casio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain. Live Rodorigo,
He calls me to a reftitution large
Of gold and jewels, that I bob'd from him,
As gifts to Desdemona.
It must not be. - - If Cafio do remain,
He hath a daily beauty in his life,
That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor
May unfold me to him; there stand I in peril;
No, he must die. Be it fo; I hear him coming.

Enter Callio.
Rod. I konw his gait; 'tis he: villain, thou dieft.
He runs at Caffio, and wounds him.


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