No, heav'ns fore-fend, I would not kill thy foul. 4 Def. Then heav'n have mercy on me, } 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 should 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't. Def. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you fo 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 so lov'd, and gave thee, thou gav't Caffio. Oth. Sweet foul, take heed, take heed of perjury, Def. Ay, but not yet to die. Oth. Presently. Therefore confefs thee freely of thy fin: For to deny each article with oath, Cannot remove, nor choak the strong conception Dddd z That I do groan withal. Thou art to die. INT Def. Oh heav'n have mercy on me. Oth. I fay, amen. Def. And have you mercy too. I never did Oth. By heav'n faw my handkerchief in's hand. 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. <i,, Oth. That he hath--us'd thee Des. What, my lord? Def. How? unlawfully? Def. He will not fay fo. Oth. Ay. Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd; ad dt. 1Manoqquni do Honest Jago hath ta'en order for❜t. Def. Oh, my fear interprets. What, is he dead as muì10 Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revengevay blood2 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?: 4:0 Def. Oh banish me, my lord, but kill me note os yd. „Poz Oth. Down, ftrumpet: Def. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night. Emil. My lord, my lord! what hoa! my lord, my lord! A Oth. What noife is this? not dead not yet quite dead a I that am cruel, am yet merciful, I would not have thee linger in thy pain. `! Emil. within.] What hoa! my lord, my lord! Oth. Who's there? Emil. Oh, my good lord, I would speak a word with you. Oth. Yes 'tis Emilia ----by and by fhe's dead. M 'Tis like she comes to fpeak of Caro's death; Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse Of fun and moon, and that th' afrighted globe Emil. I beseech you That I may speak with you. Oh, good my lord! Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw. Where art thou? what's the matter with thee now? Enter Emilia, Emil. Oh, my good lord, yonder's foul murthers done. Def. But half an hour Oth. Being done, there is no pause. Def. But while I say one prayer. 4 Oth. Oth. What? now and Emil. But now, my lord. Oth. It is the very error of the moon, She comes more near the earth than fhe was wont, A Emil. Caffio, my lord, hath kill'd young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo. Oth. Rodorigo kill'de and Caffio kill'd. ~ wh Oth. Not Caffio kill'd? then murther's out of tune, ́ ́.... Def. Oh falfely, falfely murder'd. Oth. That? what? 7 Emil. Out and alas, that was my lady's voice.ta, ka the Help! help hoa! help! oh lady speak again, dud yaz ANTA Sweet Desdemona, oh sweet mistress, speak. Def. A guiltless death I die. Emil. Oh who hath done this deed? Def. No body, I my self, farewel; T Commend me to my kind lord; oh farewel. Dies. Oth. Why, how should fhe be murder'den badugaydon Emil. Alas! who knows? Oth. You heard her fay her felf, it was not Iron Emil. She faid fo, I must needs report the truth. but ma Oth. She's like a liar 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. Oth. She was falfe as water. Emil. Thou' doft bely her, and thou art a devil. Emil. Thou art rafh as fire, to say ha That she was falfe. Oh fhe was heav'nly true. T Oth. Oth. Caffio did top her; ask thy husband elfe. To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all. Oth. Thy husband. Emil. That fhe was falfe to wedlock? Emil. My husband? Oth. Ay, 'twas he that told me firft; An honest man he is, and hates the flime Emil. My husband? Oth. What needs this iteration woman? I say thy husband. Emil. Oh mistress! villany has made mocks with love, My husband fay she was false? Oth. He, woman; I say thy husband; do'ft understand the word? Emil. Do thy worst: This deed of thine is no more worthy heav'n, Than thou waft worthy her. Oth. Peace, you were best. Æmil. Thou haft not half that power to do me harm As I have to be hurt: oh gull! oh dolt! biterance, + This Speech and the following are not in the first edition. |