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I can again thy former light restore,

Should I repent me:-but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excellent nature,

I know not where is that Promethean heat,
That can thy light relumine.

thy rose,

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When I have pluck'd

I cannot give it vital growth again,

It needs must wither:-I'll smell it on the tree.—
O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade

Justice herself to break her sword!-Once more.—
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after: Once more, and this the last :
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,

But they are cruel tears: This sorrow's heavenly;
It strikes, where it doth love.-She wakes-

Des. Who's there? Othello?

Oth. Ay, Desdemona.

Des. Will you come to bed, my lord?

Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona ?

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Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime, Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,

Solicit for it straight.

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Des. Alas, 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 spirit;

No-Heaven forefend!-I would not kill thy soul. Des. Talk you of killing?

Oth. Ay, I do.

Des. Then, heaven

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Have mercy on me!

Oth. Amen, with all my heart!

Des. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.

Oth. Hum!

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Des. And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then, When your eyes roll so: Why, I should fear, I know not,

Since guiltiness I know not; but yet, I feel, I fear.
Oth. Think on thy sins.

Des. They are loves I bear to you.
Oth. Ay, and for that thou dy'st.

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

Alas! why gnaw you so your nether lip?

Some bloody passion 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?

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Oth. That handkerchief, which I so lov'd, and

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Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy death-bed.

Des. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oth. Yes, presently:

Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin ;

For to deny each article with oath,

Cannot remove, nor choak, the strong conception

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That

That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
Des. O, heaven have mercy on me!

Oth. I say, amen.

Des. And have you mercy too!-I never did
Offend you in my life; never lov'd Cassio,
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love: I never gave him token.

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Oth. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in his hand.

O perjur'd woman! thou dost stone my heart,
And mak'st 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,
And let him confess a truth.

Oth. He hath confess'd.

Des. What, my lord?

Oth. That he hath-us'd thee.

Des. How? unlawfully?

Oth. Ay.

Des. He will not say so.

Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd;

Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.

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Des. O, my fear interprets then-What, is he dead? Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge

Had stomach for them all.

Des. Alas! he is betray'd, and I undone.

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Oth. Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my

face?

Des. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not.

Oth.

Oth. Down, strumpet!

Des. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.

Oth. Nay, if you strive

Des. But half an hour.

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My lord, my lord! what ho! 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, so.

Emil. What ho! my lord, my lord!

Oth. Who's there?

Emil. O, good my lord, I would speak a word

:

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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!
O insupportable! O heavy hour!

Methinks, it should be now a huge eclipse

Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe

Should

Should yawn at alteration.

Emil. I do beseech you I may speak with you. O, good my lord!

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Oth. I had forgot thee: O, 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.

Enter EMILIA.

Emil. O, my good lord, yonder's foul murder 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 she was wont,
And makes men mad.

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Emil. Cassio, my lord, hath kill'd a young Ve

netian,

Call'd-Roderigo.

Oth. Roderigo kill'd!

And Cassio kill'd!

Emil. No, Cassio is not kill'd.

Oth. Not Cassio kill'd! Then-murder's out of tune,

And sweet revenge grows harsh.

Des. O, falsely, falsely murder'd!

Emil. Alas! what cry is that?

Oth. That! what?

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Emil. Out, and alas! that was my lady's voice :Help! help, ho help!-O lady, speak again! Sweet Desdemona! O, sweet mistress, speak!

Des

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