Oth. By Heauen I saw my Handkerchiefe in's hand.
O periur'd woman, thou do'st stone my heart,
And makes me call, what I intend to do,
A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice.
I saw the Handkerchiefe
Des. He found it then:
I neuer gaue it him: Send, for him hither:
Let him confesse a truth
Oth. He hath confest
Des. What, my Lord?
Oth. That he hath vs'd thee
Des. How? vnlawfully?
Oth. I
Des. He will not say so
Oth. No: his mouth is stopp'd:
Honest Iago hath 'tane order for't
Des. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead?
Oth. Had all his haires bin liues, my great Reuenge
Had stomacke for them all
Des. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vndone
Oth. Out Strumpet: weep'st thou for him to my face?
Des. O banish me, my Lord, but kill me not