Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Oth. And smooth as Monumentall Alablaster:
Oth. Yet she must dye, else shee'l betray more men:
Oth. Put out the Light, and then put out the Light:
Oth. If I quench thee, thou flaming Minister,
Oth. I can againe thy former light restore,
Oth. Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light,
Oth. Thou cunning'st Patterne of excelling Nature,
Oth. I know not where is that Promethen heate
Oth. That can thy Light re‑Lume.
Oth. When I haue pluck'd thy Rose,
Oth. I caot giue it vitall growth againe,
Oth. It needs must wither. Ile smell thee on the Tree.
Oth. Oh Balmy breath, that dost almost perswade
Oth. Iustice to breake her Sword. One more, one more:
Oth. Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
Oth. And loue thee after. One more, and that's the last.
Oth. So sweet, was ne're so fatall. I must weepe,
Oth. But they are cruell Teares: This sorrow's heauenly,
Oth. It strikes, where it doth loue. She wakes.
Des. Des.