Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Emil. Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home.
Oth. Oth.
Oth. Oh, oh, oh.
Emil. Emil.
Emil. Nay, lay thee downe, and roare:
Emil. For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent,
Emil. That ere did lift vp eye.
Oth. Oh she was fowle!
Oth. I scarse did know you Vnkle, there lies your Neece,
Oth. Whose breath (indeed) these hands haue newly stopp'd:
Oth. I know this acte shewes horrible and grim.
Gra. Gra.
Gra. Poore Desdemon:
Gra. I am glad thy Father's dead,
Gra. Thy Match was mortall to him: and pure greefe
Gra. Shore his old thred in twaine. Did he liue now,
Gra. This sight would make him do a desperate turne:
Gra. Yea, curse his better Angell from his side,
Gra. And fall to Reprobance.