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Oth, Sweeť soul, take heed, take heed of perThou art on thy death-bed..

[jury; Des. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oih. Presently ;
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin :
For to deny each article with oath,
Cannot remove nor choak the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Des. Oh, Heaven have mercy on ine !
Oth. I say, amen.

Des. And have you mercy too! I never did
Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio,
But with such general warrantry of Heaven,
As I might love. I never gave him token.
Oth. By Heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's

hand.
Oh perjured woman ! thou dost stone my heart;
And makest me call, what I intend to do,
A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
I saw the handkerchief.

Des. He found it then ;
I never gave it him ; send for him hither,
Let him confess a truth.

Oth. He hath confess'd.
Des. What, my lord ?
Oth. That he hatb-us'd thee-
Des. How ? unlawfully?
Oth. Ay.

Des. He will not say so.

Oth. No, his mouth is stopped ; Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.

Des. My fear interprets then—What, is he dead? · Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great reHad stómach for them all.

(venge Des. Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone. Oth. Out, strumpet! weepest thoú for him to

my face? Des. Oh, banish me, my lord, but kill me not. Oth. Down, strumpet. Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.. Oth. Nay, if you strive-Des. But half an hour. Oth. Being done, there is no pause. Des. But while I say one prayer. Oth. It is too late." [He smothers her. (79)

ÆMILIA, at the Door. Æmil. My lord, my lord ! what hoa ! my lord ! my lord !

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

(79) In order to the smothering of Desdemona, the lozenge-shaped dark shadows of Othello's face must be conceived to be a pillow, which, on inspection, they will be found to resemble, and they are situate precisely upon Desdemona's face and mouth.

I, that am cruel, am yet merciful ;
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
So, so.

Æmil. within.] What, hoa ! my lord, my lord!
Oth. Who's there :
Æmil. Oh, my good lord, I would speak a word

with you.
Oth. Yes ; 'tis Æmilia—by and by—she's dead.
'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death;
The noise was high-Ha, no more moving ?
Still as the grave. Shall she come in? were't good?
I think she stirs again—No—what's the best?
If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife ;
My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife,
Oh insupportable ! oh heavy hour!
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe
Should yawn at alteration -

Æmil. I beseech you, That I may speak with you. Oh, my good Lord;

Oth. I had forgot thee! oh, come in, Æmilia. Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw. Where art thou? what's the matter with thee now!

[Unlocks the door.

re no V

Enter ÆMILIA.
Æmil. Oh, my good lord, yonder's foul mur-
Oth. What? now?

[der done.

Æmil. But now my lord..

Oth. It is the very error of the moon; She comes more near the earth than she was wont, And makes mien mad.

Æmil. Cassio, my lord, hath killed
A young Venetian, called Rodorigo.

Oth. Rodorigo killed? and Cassio killed?
Æmil. No, Cassio is not killed. (tune,

Oth. Not Cassio killed? then murder's out of And sweet revenge grows harsh.

Des. Oh falsely, fulsely murdered !
Æmil. Alas, what cry is that ?
Oth. That? what?

Æmil Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice. Help! help, hoa! help! oh lady, speak again; Sweet Desdemona! oh, sweet mistress, speak,

Des. A guiltless death I die.
Æmil. Oh, who hath done this deed?

Des. No body, I myself, farewel;
Commend me to my kind lord; oh, farewel. Di

Oth. Why, how should the be murdered?
Æmil. Alas, who knows?
Oth. You heard her say herself, it was not I.
Æmil. She said so, I must needs report the truth.

Oth. She's like a liar gone to burning hell ; 'Twas I that killed her.

[blacker devil. Æmil. Oh, the more angel she, and you the Oth. She turned to folly, and she was a whore.

Æmil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a Oth. She was false as water.

[devil. Æmil. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false. Oh, she was heavenly true,

Oth. Cassio did tup her; ask thy husband else.
Oh, I were damn’d beneath all depth in hell,
But that I did proceed upon just grounds
To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.

Æmil. My husband !
Oth. Thy husband.
Æmil. That she was false to wedlock ?
Oth. Ay, with Cassio. Had she been true,
If Heaven would make me such another world,
Of one entire and perfect Chrysolite,
I'd not have sold her for it.

Æmil. My husband !

Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me first; An honest man he is, and hates the slime That sticks on filthy deeds.

Æmil. My husband !

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

Æmil. Oh mistress! villainy has made mocks My husband say she was false! [with love.

Oth. He, woman; I say, thy husband, do'st understand the word ? My friend, thy husband, honest, honest lago.

Æmil. If he says so, may his pernicious soul

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