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  • Title: Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)
  • Editor: Donald Bailey
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-466-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Donald Bailey
    Peer Reviewed

    Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)

    The Moore of Venice.

    Bian. I am no strumpet, but of life as honest,
    As you, that thus abuse me.
    3230Em. As I: fough, fie vpon thee.
    Iag. Kind Gentlemen, let's goe see poore Cassio drest,
    Come mistresse, you must tell's another tale.
    Emillia, runne you to the Cittadell,
    3235And tell my Lord and Lady what has hapt:
    Will you goe on, I pray, this is the night,
    That either markes me, or foredoes me quite.
    Enter Othello with a light.
    3240Oth. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soule,
    Let me not name it to you, you chaste starres:
    It is the cause, yet I'le not shed her blood,
    Nor scarre that whiter skin of hers, then snow,
    And smooth, as monumentall Alablaster;
    3245Yet she must die, else shee'll betray more men,
    Put out the light, and then put out the light:
    If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
    I can againe, thy former light restore,
    Should I repent me; but once put out thine,
    3250Thou cunning patterne of excelling nature,
    I know not where is that promethian heate,
    That can thy light returne: when I haue pluckt the rose,
    I cannot giue it vitall growth againe,
    3255It must needes wither; I'le smell it on the tree,
    A balmy breath, that doth almost perswade
    Iustice her selfe to breake her sword once more,
    Be thus, when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
    And loue thee after: once more, and this the last, Hekisses her.
    3260So sweete was ne're so fatall: I must weepe,
    But they are cruell teares; this sorrowes heauenly,
    It strikes when it does loue: she wakes.
    Des. Who's there, Othello?
    Oth. I, Desdemona.
    3265Des. Will you come to bed my Lord?
    Oth. Haue you prayed to night, Desdemona?