Ah honestly I don’t remember a particular favourite kiss (unless I stick in Wuthering Heights again) but thinking hard for something to write here I did like the scene where Othello kisses Desdemona before killing her, then realises what he’s done and kills himself. It goes along with one of my favourite Shakespeare speeches, almost certainly my favourite in a tragedy, about being a man who loved not wisely but too well. If you haven’t had the chance to read it I will quote it below. It’s that dangerous obsessive love thing again.
Soft you; a word or two before you go.
I have done the state some service, and they know’t.
No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely but too well;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
Perplex’d in the extreme; of one whose hand,
Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees
Their medicinal gum. Set you down this;
And say besides, that in Aleppo once,
Where a malignant and a turban’d Turk
Beat a Venetian and traduced the state,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him, thus.
O bloody period!
All that’s spoke is marr’d.
I kiss’d thee ere I kill’d thee: no way but this;
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
Falls on the bed, and dies