Oth. Downe Strumpet
Des. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night
Oth. Nay, if you striue
Des. But halfe an houre
Oth. Being done, there is no pawse
Des. But while I say one prayer
Oth. It is too late.
Smothers her.
aemilia at the doore.
Aemil. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa?
My Lord, my Lord