Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)
Peer Reviewed
The Moore of Venice.
97
¶This looke of thine, will hurle my soule from heauen,
3575And fiends will snatch at it: cold, cold, my girle,
¶Whippe me you Diuells,
¶
Enter Lodouico, Montano, Iago, and Officers,
3582.1
Cassio in a Chaire.
3585Oth. That's he that was Othello, here I am.
¶Lod. Where is this Viper, bring the villaine forth.
¶Oth. I looke downe towards his feet, but that's a fable
¶If thou beest a diuell, I cannot kill thee.
¶Oth. Why any thing,
¶An honourable murderer if you will:
¶For nought did I in hate, but all in honour.
¶Oth. I.
¶Oth. I doe beleeue it, and I aske you pardon,
3605Will you pray, demand that demy diuell,
¶Iag. Demand me nothing, what you know you know,
¶From this time forth I neuer will speake word.
¶Lod. What not to pray?
3610Grat. Torments will op'e your lips.
N
Oth.
