:02:21
It is the cause,
:02:23
it is the cause, my soul,
:02:26
Let me not name it to you,
:02:28
you chaste stars!
:02:30
It is the cause.
:02:32
Yet I'll not shed her blood;
:02:35
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
:02:40
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
:02:44
Yet she must die,
:02:46
- else she'll betray more men.
- Sh!
:02:50
Put out the light,
:02:51
and then put out the light:
:02:55
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
:02:59
I can again thy former light restore,
:03:02
Should I repent me:
:03:05
But once put out thy light,
:03:08
thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
:03:12
I know not where is that Promethean heat
:03:17
That can thy light relume.
:03:28
She wakes.
:03:29
Who's there?
:03:31
Othello?
:03:33
- Ay, Desdemona.
- Will you come to bed, my lord?
:03:36
- Have you pray'd tonight, Desdemona?
- Ay, my lord.
:03:40
If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,
:03:47
Solicit for it straight.
:03:50
Alas, my lord!
:03:53
What do you mean by that?
:03:55
Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:
:03:58
I would not kill thy unprepared spirit;