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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].
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SCENE X. Enter Lodovico, Cassio led in wounded, Montano, and Jago prisoner, with officers.

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 tow'rds his feet; but that's a fable.
If that thou beest a devil, I cannot kill thee.
[Othello wounds Jago.

Lod.
Wrench his sword from him.

Jago.
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,
Faln in the practice of a cursed slave,
What shall be said to thee?

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

Lod.
This wretch hath part confest his villany:
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,

-- 589 --


Why he hath thus ensnar'd my soul and body?

Jago.
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 befaln,
Which as I think, you know not; here's a letter,
Found in the pocket of the slain Rodrigo,
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
Rodrigo meant t'have sent this damned villain;
But that belike Jago in the interim
Came in, and satisfy'd him.

Oth.
Oh 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 even 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 Jago 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, Jago hurt him,
Jago set him on.

-- 590 --

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,
Speak of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate,
Nor set down ought 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; of one whose hand,
Like the base † noteIndian, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose eyes
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this.
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk
Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state,
I took by th' throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him, thus.
[Stabs himself.

Lod.
Oh bloody period!

Gra.
All that is spoke is marr'd.

-- 591 --

Oth.
I kist thee, ere I kill'd thee. No way but this,
Killing my self, to die upon a kiss.
[Dies.

Cas.
This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
For he was great of heart.

Lod.
Oh Spartan dog!
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
Look on the tragick loading of this bed;
This is thy work; the object poisons sight,—
Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,
And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,
For they succeed to you. To you, lord governor,
Remains the censure of this hellish villain:
The time, the place, the torture, oh inforce it.
My self will straight aboard, and to the state,
This heavy act, with heavy heart, relate.
[Exeunt.

-- --

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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].
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