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.
And cannot make away