Lod.
Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?

Oth.
That's he, that was Othello. Here I am.

Lod.
Where is that viper? Bring the villain forth.

Oth.
I look down ^{5 note}tow'rds his feet; but that's a fable.
If that thou be'st a Devil, I cannot kill thee. [Othello wounds Iago.

Lod.
Wrench his sword from him.

Iago.
I bleed, Sir, but not kill'd.

Oth.
I am not sorry, neither. I'd have thee live.
For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod.
Oh thou, Othello, that wast once so good,
Fall'n ^{6 note}in the practice of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

Oth.
Why, any thing;
An honourable murd'rer, if you will,
For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

Lod.
This wretch hath part confest his villainy.
Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?

Oth.
Ay.

Cas.
Dear General, I never gave you Cause.

Oth.
I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
Will you, I pray, demand that demy-devil,
Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body?

Iago.
Demand me nothing. What you know, you know.
From this time forth I never will speak word.

Lod.
What? not to pray?

Gra.
Torments will ope your lips.

Oth.
Well, thou dost best.

Lod.
Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,
Which, as I think, you know. Here is a letter,
Found in the pocket of the slain Rodorigo,
And, here, another; one of them imports
The death of Cassio to be undertook
By Rodorigo.

Oth.
Oh villain!

Cas.
Most heathenish and most gross!

Lod.
Now, here's another discontented paper,
Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,
Rodorigo meant t' have sent this damned villain,
But that, belike, Iago ^{7 note}in the interim
Came in and satisfy'd him.

Oth.
O thou pernicious caitiff!
How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Cas.
I found it in my chamber;
And he himself confest it but ev'n now,
That there he dropt it for a special purpose,
Which wrought to his desire.

Oth.
Oh fool, fool, fool!

Cas.
There is, besides, in Rodorigo's letter,
How he upbraids Iago that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was cast. And even now he spake,
After long seeming dead, Iago hurt him,
Iago set him on.

Lod.
You must forsake this room, and go with us;
Your Pow'r and your Command is taken off,
And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,
If there be any cunning cruelty,
That can torment him much, and hold him long,
It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,
Till that the nature of your fault be known
To the Venetian State. Come, bring away.

Oth.
Soft you; a word or two, before you go.
I've done the State some service, and they know't;
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
^{8 note}Speak of me, as I am; Nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak
Of one that lov'd not wisely, but too well;
Of one, not easily jealous, but being wrought,
Perplex'd in the extream; ^{9 note}