Shakespeare's First Folio - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Des. Will you come to bed, my Lord?
Oth. Haue you pray'd to night, Desdemon?
Des. I my Lord
Oth. If you bethinke your selfe of any Crime Vnreconcil'd as yet to Heauen, and Grace, Solicite for it straight
Des. Alacke, my Lord, What may you meane by that?
Oth. Well, do it, and be breefe, I will walke by: I would not kill thy vnprepared Spirit, No, Heauens fore-fend) I would not kill thy Soule
Des. Talke you of killing?
Oth. I, I do
Des. Then Heauen haue mercy on mee
Oth. Amen, with all my heart
Des. If you say, I hope you will not kill me
Oth. Humh
Des. And yet I feare you: for you're fatall then When your eyes rowle so.
Why I should feare, I know not, Since guiltinesse I know not: But yet I feele I feare
Oth. Thinke on thy sinnes
Des. They are Loues I beare to you
Oth. I, and for that thou dy'st
Des. That death's vnnaturall, that kils for louing.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether-lip?
Some b.l.o.o.d.y pa.s.sion shakes your very Frame: These are portents: but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me
Oth. Peace, and be still
Des. I will so: What's the matter?
Oth. That Handkerchiefe Which I so lou'd, and gaue thee, thou gau'st to Ca.s.sio
Des. No by my Life, and Soule: send for the man, And aske him
Oth. Sweet Soule, take heed, take heed of Periury, Thou art on thy death-bed
Des. I, but not yet to dye
Oth. Presently.
Therefore confesse thee freely of thy sinne: For to deny each Article with Oath, Cannot remoue, nor choake the strong Conception That I do grone withall. Thou art to dye
Des. O Heauen haue mercy on me
Oth. I say, Amen
Des. And haue you mercy too. I neuer did Offend you in my life: neuer lou'd Ca.s.sio, But with such generall warrantie of Heauen, As I might loue. I neuer gaue him Token
Oth. By Heauen I saw my Handkerchiefe in's hand.
O periur'd woman, thou do'st stone my heart, And makes me call, what I intend to do, A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice.
I saw the Handkerchiefe
Des. He found it then: I neuer gaue it him: Send, for him hither: Let him confesse a truth
Oth. He hath confest
Des. What, my Lord?
Oth. That he hath vs'd thee
Des. How? vnlawfully?
Oth. I
Des. He will not say so
Oth. No: his mouth is stopp'd: Honest Iago hath 'tane order for't
Des. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead?
Oth. Had all his haires bin liues, my great Reuenge Had stomacke for them all
Des. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vndone
Oth. Out Strumpet: weep'st thou for him to my face?
Des. O banish me, my Lord, but kill me not
Oth. Downe Strumpet
Des. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night
Oth. Nay, if you striue
Des. But halfe an houre
Oth. Being done, there is no pawse
Des. But while I say one prayer
Oth. It is too late.
Smothers her.
aemilia at the doore.
Aemil. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa?
My Lord, my Lord
