Emilia (cont.)
I care not for thy sword; I’ll make thee known,
Though I lost twenty lives.—Help! help, ho! help!
The Moor hath kill’d my mistress! Murder! murder!
Montano
What is the matter? How now, general!
Emilia
O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,
That men must lay their murders on your neck.
Gratiano
What is the matter?
Emilia
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.