OTHELLO.
Down, strumpet!
DESDEMONA.
Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight!
OTHELLO.
Nay, if you strive,—
DESDEMONA.
But half an hour!
OTHELLO.
Being done, there is no pause.
DESDEMONA.
But while I say one prayer!
OTHELLO.
It is too late.
[Smothers her.]
EMILIA.
[Within.] My lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!
OTHELLO.
What noise is this? Not dead? Not yet quite dead?
I that am cruel am yet merciful,
I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
So, so.