Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars !—
It is the cause. Yet I 'ii not shed her bicod;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.

[takes off his sword.

Yet she must die, else she 'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light.1
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,

Should I repent me: but once put out thine,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat,
That can thy light relume: when I have pluck'd thy

rose,

I cannot give it vital growth again ;

It needs must wither:-I'll smell it on the tree.

[kissing her.

O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade
Justice to break her sword!—one more, one more.
Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
And love thee after:-one more, and this the last.
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: this

It strikes where it doth love.

sorrow's heavenly;
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?

i. e. the light of life.

Ay, my lord.

Des.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime, Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight.

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.

Des.

Have mercy on me!

Oth.

Ay, I do.

Then, Heaven

Amen, with all my heart!

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

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 diest.

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?

Oth. That handkerchief, which I so loved, and

Take heed of perjury: thou 'rt 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 choke the strong conception,
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

Des. Then, Lord have mercy on me!

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 warranty of Heaven
As I might love: I never gave him token.

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

O 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,
And let him confess a truth.