What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan.
And die in music.
Singing
Willow, willow, willow,--
Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;
So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;
So speaking as I think, I die ...

Ay, ay: O, lay me by my mistress' side.

By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.
O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool
Do with so good a woman?

She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it,
And I did give't my husband.

O 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.

I will not.

'Twill out, 'twill out: I peace!
No, I will speak as liberal as the north:
Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,
All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.

O heaven! O heavenly powers!

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

Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:
'Tis proper I obey him, but not now.
Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home.

Villany, villany, villany!
I think upon't, I think: I smell't: O villany!--
I thought so then:--I'll kill myself for grief:--
O villany, villany!

And your reports have set the murder on.

I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:
My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed,--

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?

But did you ever tell him she was false?

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

O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.

Thou hast not half that power to do me harm
As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt!
As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed--
I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known,
Though I lost twenty lives.--Help! help, ho! help!
The ...

Do thy worst:
This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven
Than thou wast worthy her.

If he say so, may his pernicious soul
Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:
She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.

O mistress, villany hath made mocks with love,
My husband say that she was false!

My husband!

My husband!

That she was false to wedlock?

My husband!

Thou art rash as fire, to say
That she was false: O, she was heavenly true!

Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.

O, the more angel she,
And you the blacker devil!

She said so: I must needs report the truth.

Alas, who knows?

O, who hath done this deed?

Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice.
Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again!
Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!

Alas, what cry is that?

No, Cassio is not kill'd.

Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Venetian
Call'd Roderigo.

But now, my lord.

O, my good lord, yonder's foul murders done!

Within I do beseech you
That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!

Within O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!

Within What, ho! my lord, my lord!

Within My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!

As I! foh! fie upon thee!

Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet!

Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!

'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?

Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would
store the world they played for.
But I do think it is their husbands' faults
If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps,
Or else break out in peevish jealousies ...

Why the wrong is but a wrong i' the world: and
having the world for your labour, tis a wrong in your
own world, and you might quickly make it right.

In troth, I think I should; and undo't when I had
done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a
joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for
gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty
exhibition; but for the whole world,--why, who would
not make her ...

The world's a huge thing: it is a great price.
For a small vice.

Nor I neither by this heavenly light;
I might do't as well i' the dark.