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PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource
PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource
PlayShakespeare.com: The Ultimate Free Shakespeare Resource

Scene Study (Male-Female)

OTH.

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul;

Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars,

It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood,

Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,

And smooth as monumental alablaster.

Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men.

Put out the light, and then put out the light:

If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,

I can again thy former light restore,

Should I repent me; but once put out thy light,

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 thee on the tree.

Kisses 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 that’s 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 tonight, Desdemon?

DES.

Ay, my lord.

OTH.

If you bethink yourself of any crime

Unreconcil’d as yet to heaven and grace,

Solicit for it straight.

DES.

Alack, 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

Have mercy on me!

OTH.

Amen, with all my heart!

DES.

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

OTH.

Humh!

DES.

And yet I fear you; for you’re 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 di’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?

OTH.

That handkerchief which I so lov’d, and gave thee,

Thou gav’st to Cassio.

DES.

No, by my life and soul!

Send for the man, and ask him.

OTH.

Sweet soul, take heed,

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 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 lov’d 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 ’s 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;

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.

DES.

O, my fear interprets. 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!

OTH.

Out, strumpet! weep’st thou for him to my face?

DES.

O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!

OTH.

Down, strumpet!d

DES.

Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight!

OTH.

Nay, an’ you strive—

DES.

But half an hour!

OTH.

Being done, there is no pause.

DES.

But while I say one prayer!

OTH.

It is too late.

Smothers her.

DES.

O Lord, Lord, 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.

 

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