Page 1558 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear.

OTHELLO
Think on thy sins.

DESDEMONA
They are loves I bear to you. [40]

OTHELLO
And for that thou diest.

DESDEMONA
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, [45]
They do not point on me.

OTHELLO
Peace, and be still!

DESDEMONA
I will, so, what’s the matter?

OTHELLO

That handkerchief which I so lov’d, and gave thee,
Thou gavest to Cassio.

DESDEMONA
No, by my life and soul,
Send for the man and ask him. [50]

OTHELLO
Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury,
Thou art on thy death-bed.

DESDEMONA