Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant?
Cas. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the
Knaue in to a Twiggen-Bottle

Rod. Beate me?
Cas. Dost thou prate, Rogue?
Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant:
I pray you Sir, hold your hand

Cassio. Let me go (Sir)
Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard

Mon. Come, come: you're drunke

Cassio. Drunke?
Iago. Away I say: go out and cry a Mutinie.
Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen:
Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano:
Helpe Masters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed.
Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa:
The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant,
You'le be asham'd for euer.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Othe. What is the matter heere?
Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to th' death. He dies

Othe. Hold for your liues