Iago.
Here, 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 marrs us: think on 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 Gnat almost to the sense,
And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain. Live Rodorigo,
He calls me to a restitution large
Of gold and jewels, that I bob'd from him,
As gifts to Desdemona.
It must not be.—If Cassio 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 so; I hear him coming. Enter Cassio.

Rod.
I know his gate; 'tis he: villain, thou dyest. [He runs at Cassio, and wounds him.

Cas.
That Thrust had been mine enemy indeed,
But that my coat is better than thou know'st:
I will make proof of thine. [Fight. Iago cuts Cassio behind in the Leg, and exit. [Then Rodorigo and Cassio fall.

Rod.
Oh, I am slain.

Cas.
I'm maim'd for ever; help, hoa! murther, murther!

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