Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/850

334 So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch: Doth that boade weeping?

Æmil. 'Tis neyther heere, nor there.

Des. I haue heard it said so. O these Men, these men! Do'st thou in conscience thinke (tell me Æmilia) That there be women do abuse their husbands In such grosse kinde?

Æmil. There be some such, no question.

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world?

Æmil. Why, would not you?

Des. No, by this Heauenly light.

Æmil. Nor I neither, by this Heauenly light: I might doo't as well i'th'darke.

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for al the world?

Æmil. The world's a huge thing: It is a great price, for a small vice.

Des. Introth, I thinke thou would'st not.

Æmil. Introth I thinke I should, and vndoo't when I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a ioynt Ring, nor for measures of Lawne, nor for Gownes, Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for all the whole world: why, who would not make her husband a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should venture Purgatory for't.

Des. 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 hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your owne world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not thinke there is any such woman.

Æmil. Yes, a dozen: and as many to'th'vantage, as would store the world they plaid for. But I do thinke it is their Husbands faults If Wiues do fall: (Say, that they slacke their duties, And powre our Treasures into forraigne laps; Or else breake out in peeuish Iealousies, Throwing restraint vpon vs: Or say they strike vs, Or scant our former hauing in despight) Why we haue galles: and though we haue some Grace, Yet haue we some Reuenge. Let Husbands know, Their wiues haue sense like them: They see, and smell, And haue their Palats both for sweet, and sowre, As Husbands haue. What is it that they do, When they change vs for others? Is it Sport? I thinke it is: and doth Affection breed it? I thinke it doth. Is't Frailty that thus erres? It is so too. And haue not we Affections? Desires for Sport? and Frailty, as men haue? Then let them vse vs well: else let them know, The illes we do, their illes instruct vs so.

Des. Good night, good night: Heauen me such vses send, Not to picke bad, from bad; but by bad, mend.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Iago. Heere, stand behinde this Barke, Straight will he come: Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home: Quicke, quicke, feare nothing; Ile be at thy Elbow, It makes vs, or it marres vs, thinke on that, And fixe most firme thy Resolution.

Rod. Be neere at hand, I may miscarry in't.

Iago. Heere, at thy hand: Be bold, & take thy stand.

Rod. I haue no great deuotion to the deed, And yet he hath giuen me satisfying Reasons: 'Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies.

Iago. I haue rub'd this yong Quat almost to the sense, And he growes angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Euery way makes my gaine. Liue Rodorigo, He calles me to a restitution large Of Gold, and Iewels, that I bob'd from him, As Guifts to Desdemona. It must not be: If Cassio do remaine, He hath a dayly beauty in his life, That makes me vgly: and besides, the Moore May vnfold me to him: there stand I in much perill: No, he must dye. But so, I heard him comming.

Rod. I know his gate, 'tis he: Villaine thou dyest.

Cas. That thrust had beene mine enemy indeed, But that my Coate is better then thou know'st: I will make proofe of thine.

Rod. Oh, I am slaine.

Cassio. I am maym'd for euer: Helpe hoa: Murther, murther.

Oth. The voyce of Cassio, Iago keepes his word.

Rod. O Villaine that I am.

Oth. It is euen so.

Cas. Oh helpe hoa: Light, a Surgeon.

Oth. 'Tis he: O braue Iago, honest, and iust, That hast such Noble sense of thy Friends wrong, Thou teachest me. Minion, your deere lyes dead, And your vnblest Fate highes: Strumpet I come: For of my heart, those Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted. Thy Bed lust-stain'd, shall with Lusts blood bee spotted.

Cas. What hoa? no Watch? No passage? Murther, Murther.

Gra. 'Tis some mischance, the voyce is very direfull.

Cas. Oh helpe.

Lodo. Hearke.

Rod. Oh wretched Villaine.

Lod. Two or three groane. 'Tis heauy night; These may be counterfeits: Let's think't vnsafe To come into the cry, without more helpe.

Rod. Nobody come: then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago.

Lod. Hearke.

Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with Light, and Weapons.

Iago. Who's there? Who's noyse is this that cries on murther?

Lodo. We do not know.

Iago. Do not you heare a cry?

Cas. Heere, heere: for heauen sake helpe me.

Iago. What's the matter?

Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it.

Lodo. The same indeede, a very valiant Fellow.

Iago. What are you heere, that cry so greeuously?

Cas. Iago? Oh I am spoyl'd, vndone by Villaines: Giue me some helpe.

Iago. O mee, Lieutenant! What Villaines haue done this?

Cas. I thinke that one of them is heereabout.