Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Æmil. I do beseech you
Æmil. That I may speake with you. Oh good my Lord.
Oth. Oth.
Oth. I had forgot thee: oh come in Æmilia.
Oth. Soft, by and by, let me the Curtaines draw.
Oth. Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now?
Oth. Enter Æmilia.
Æmil. Æmil.
Æmil. Oh my good Lord, yonders foule Murthers
Æmil. done.
Oth. What? now?
Æmil. But now, my Lord.
Oth. It is the very error of the Moone,
Oth. She comes more neerer Earth then she was wont,
Oth. And makes men mad.
Æmil. Cassio, my Lord, hath kill'd