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If I quench thee, thou flaming minifter,
I can again thy former light reftore,
Should I repent: but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'ft pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat,
That can thy light re-lumine.
When I have pluck'd thy rofe,
I cannot give it vital growth again;
It needs muft wither.

[Sets down the taper.

I'll fmell thee on the tree;

[Kiffing her.

Oh balmy breath, that doft almost perfwade
Juftice to break her fword!-One more; one more;
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after.one more, that's the laft;
So fweet, was ne'er fo fatal! I muft weep,

But they are cruel tears: this Sorrow's heav'nly;
It ftrikes, where it doth love. -She wakes-

Def. Who's there? Othello?

Oh. Ay, Defdemona.

Def. Will you come to bed, my Lord?
Qth. Have you pray'd to night, Desdemona?
Def. Ay, my Lord.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heav'n, and grace,
Sollicit for it ftraight.

Def. Alack, my Lord,

What may you mean by That?

Oth. Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unprepared fpirit,

No, (heav'ns forefend!) I would not kill thy foul.
Def. Talk you of killing?

his Bofom, ftrikes him into an inftant Reflexion, that if he puts out the Light, he can rekindle it; but if he once puts out the Light of her Life, that will be extinguish'd for ever. While he is bufied in this Contemplation, he throws his Eyes towards her; and then, footh'd with her beauteous Appear ance, fets down the Light, to go and kifs her. Upon this, Desdemona wakes; and they continue in Difcourfe together till he ftifles her.

Oth.

Oth. Ay, I do.

Def. Then heav'n have mercy on me!
Oth. Amen, with all my heart.

Def. If you fay fo, I hope, you will not kill me. Oth. Hum.

Def. And yet I fear you: for you're fatal then,

When your eyes rowl fo. Why I fhould fear, I know not,

Since guilt I know not yet, I feel, I fear.

Oth. Think on thy fins.

Def. They're Loves I bear to you.

Oth. Ay, and for That thou dy'ft.

Def. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving.

Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip

Some bloody paffion shakes your very frame;
These are portents: but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Oth. Peace, and be still.

Def. I will fo: what's the matter?
Oth. That handkerchief

Which I fo lov'd, and gave thee, thou gav't Caffio.
Def. No, by my life and foul: fend for the man,
And ask him.

Oth. Sweet Soul, take heed, take heed of perjury; Thou art on thy death-bed.

Def. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oth. Prefently;

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Therefore confefs thee freely of thy fin:

For to deny each article with oath,

Cannot remove, nor choak, the ftrong conception

That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
Def. Oh, heav'n have mercy on me!

Oth. I fay, amen.

Def. And have you mercy too!

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Offend you in my life; never lov'd Caffio,
But with fuch general warranty of heav'n,
As I might love. I never gave him token.
Oth. By heav'n, I faw my handkerchief in's hand.
Oh perjur'd woman! thou doft ftone my heart;
And mak'st me call, what I intend to do,

A mur

A murther, which I thought a facrifice.
I faw the handkerchief.

Def. He found it then ;

I never gave it him; fend for him hither,
Let him confefs a truth.

Oth. He hath confeft.

Def. What, my lord?

Oth. That he hathus'd thee

Def. How? unlawfully?

Oth. Ay.

Def. He will not fay fo.

Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd;

Honeft lage hath ta'en order for't.

Def. My fear interprets then-What, is he dead? Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had ftomach for them all.

Def. Alas, he is betray'd, and I undone.

Oth. Out, ftrumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?

Def. Oh banish me, my Lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Down, ftrumpet.

Def. Kill me to morrow, let me live to night.

Oth. Nay, if you ftrive

Def. But half an hour.

Oth. Being done, there is no paufe.

Def. But while I fay one prayer.

Oth. It is too late.

Emilia, at the door.

[He fmothers her.

Emil. My lord, my lord! what hoa! my lord, my lord!

Oth. What noise is this? not dead? not yet quite dead?

I, that am cruel, am yet merciful;

I would not have thee linger in thy pain.

So, fo.

Emil. within.] What hoa! my Lord, my Lord! Oth. Who's there?

Emil. Oh, my good Lord, I would fpeak a word

with you.

Oth.

Oth. Yes, 'tis Emilia- -by and by-fhe's dead.
Tis like, fhe comes to fpeak of Caffio's death;
The noife was high. Ha, no more moving?
Still as the Grave. Shall the come in? were't good?
I think, fhe ftirs again-No-what's the best?
If the come in, fhe'll, fure, fpeak to my wife;
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife.
Oh infupportable! oh heavy hour!

Methinks, it should be now a huge eclipfe

Of Sun, and Moon, and that th' affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteration

Emil. I beseech you,

That I may speak with you. Oh, good my lord!-
Oth. I had forgot thee; oh, come in, Emilia.
Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw.

Where art thou? what's the matter with thee now?
[Unlocks the door.

Enter Emilia.

Emil. Oh, my good lord, yonder's foul murther done.

Oth. What? now?

Emil. But now, my

Lord.

Oth. It is the very error of the Moon;

She comes more near the Earth than fhe was wont,
And makes men mad.

Emil. Caffio, my Lord, hath kill'd

A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo.

Oth. Rodorigo kill'd? and Caio kill'd?

Emil. No, Caffio is not kill'd.

Oth. Not Caffio kill'd? then murther's out of tune,

And fweet revenge grows harsh.

Def. Oh, falfely, falfely murther'd!

Emil. Alas! what cry is that?

Oth. That? what?

Emil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice.
Help! help, hoa! help! oh lady, fpeak again;
Sweet Desdemona! oh fweet miftress, speak.
Def. A guiltless death I die.

Emil. Õh, who hath done this deed ?

Def.

Def. No body, I myself, farewel ;

Commend me to my kind Lord; oh, farewel.
Oth. Why, how should fhe be murther'd?
Emil. Alas! who knows?

[Dies.

Oth. You heard her fay, herself, it was not I.
Emil. She faid fo, I muft needs report the truth.
Oth. She's like a lyar gone to burning hell;
'Twas I, that kill'd her.

Emil. Oh, the more Angel fhe, and you the blacker
Devil.

Oth. She turn'd to folly, and fhe was a whore.
Emil. Thou doft bely her, and thou art a Devil.
Oth. She was falfe as water.

Emil. Thou art rafh as fire, to fay

That she was falfe. Oh, fhe was heav'nly true.
Oth. Caffio did tup her; ask thy husband elfe.
Oh, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon juft grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.
Emil. My husband!

Oth, Thy husband.

Emil. That fhe was falfe to wedlock?
Oth. Ay, with Caffio: had the been true,
If heav'n would make me fuch another World,
Of one entire and perfect Chryfolite,

I'd not have fold her for it.

Emil. My husband!

Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first ; An honest man he is, and hates the flime

That sticks on filthy deeds.

Emil. My husband!

Oth. What needs this iteration, woman? I fay, thy husband.

Emil. Oh mitrefs! villany has made mocks with love.

My husband fay, she was false!

Oth. He, woman;

I fay, thy husband; do'ft understand the word ?
My friend, thy husband, honeft, honeft lago.
Emil. If he fays fo, may his pernicious foul

Rot

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