Welcome to PhiloLogic  
   home |  the ARTFL project |  download |  documentation |  sample databases |   
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.

Previous section

Next section

SCENE VIII. Enter Montano, Gratiano, Jago, and others.

Mon.
What is the matter? how now, General?

Æmil.
Oh, are you come, Jago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murthers on your neck.

Gra.
What is the matter?

Æmil.
Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man;
He says thou toldst him that his wife was false:
I know thou didst not, thou'rt not such a villain.
Speak, for my heart is full.

Jago.
I told him what I thought; and told no more
Than what he found himself was apt and true.

Æmil.
But did you ever tell him, she was false?

Jago.
I did.

Æmil.
You told a lie; an odious damned lie:
Upon my soul a lie; a wicked lie.
She false with Cassio? did you say with Cassio?

Jago.
With Cassio, mistress; go to, charm your tongue.

Æmil.
I will not charm my tongue; I'm bound to speak,
My mistress lies here murther'd in her bed.* note










-- 585 --

Jago.
What, are you mad? I charge you get you home.

Æmil.
Good gentle men, let me have leave to speak;
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now:
Perchance, Jago, I will ne'er go home.

Oth.
Oh! oh! oh!
[Othello falls on the bed.

Æmil.
Nay, lay thee down and roar:
For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
That e'er did lift up eye.

Oth.
Oh she was foul!
I scarce did know you, uncle; there lyes your neice,
Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stop'd;
I know this act shews horrible and grim.

Gra.
Poor Desdemona! I'm glad thy father's dead:
Thy match was mortal to him; and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain. Did he live now,
This sight would make him do a desp'rate turn;
Yea, curse his better angel from his side,
And fall to reprobation,

Oth.
'Tis pitiful; but yet Jago knows,
That she with Cassio hath the act of shame
A thousand times committed. Cassio confest it,
And she did gratifie his amorous works,
With that recognizance and pledge of love
Which I first gave; I saw it in his hand;
It was an handkerchief, an antique token
My father gave my mother.

Æmil.
Oh heav'n! oh heav'nly powers!

Jago.
Come, hold your peace.

Æmil.
'Twill out, 'twill out—I peace!
No, I will speak as liberal as the c noteair,
Let heav'n, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.

-- 586 --

Jago.
Be wise and get you home.

Æmil.
I will not.
[Jago offers to stab his wife.

Gra.
Fie, your sword upon a woman?

Æmil.
Oh, thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak'st of
I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
For often, with a solemn earnestness,
(More than indeed belong'd to such a trifle,)
He begg'd of me to steal it.

Jago.
Villanous whore!

Æmil.
She give it Cassio? alas I found it,
And I did give't my husband.

Jago.
Filth, thou liest.

Æmil.
By heav'n I do not, I do not, gentlemen:
Oh murd'rous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a wife?
[Jago breaks through and wounds his wife, then runs out.

Oth.
Are there no stones in heav'n,
But what serve for the thunder? precious villain!

Gra.
The woman falls; sure he hath kill'd his wife.

Æmil.
Ay, ay; oh lay me by my mistress' side.

Gra.
He's gone, but his wife's kill'd.

Mon.
'Tis a notorious villain; take this weapon,
Which I recover'd have here from the Moor:
Come, guard the door without, let him not pass,
But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain,
For 'tis a damned slave.
[Exeunt Montano and Gratiano.
Previous section

Next section


George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
Powered by PhiloLogic