The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! Iago. Is it possible!-My lord, Oth. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore Be sure of it; give me the occular proof: [Taking him by the throat Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul, Thou hadst been better have been born a dog, Iago. Is it come to this? Oth. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so prove it, That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, To hang a doubt on: or, wo upon thy life! Oth. If thou doth slander her, and torture me, Never pray more: abandon all remorse:* On horror's head horrors accumulate: Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz’d, For nothing canst thou to damnation add, Greater than that. Iago. O grace! O heaven defend me! Are you a man? have you a soul, or sense?God be wi' you; take mine office.-O wretched fool, That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice! O monstrous world! Take note! take note, O world, I thank you for this profit; and, from hence, By the world, Oth. I think my wife be honest, and think she is not; I think that thou art just, and think thou art not; I'll have some proof: Her name, that was as fresh As Dian's visage, is now begrim'd and black As mine own face.-If there be cords, or knives, Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams, I'll not endure it.-Would, I were satisfied. *All tenderness, all pity. OTHELLO'S STORY OF THE handkerCHIEF. Did an Egyptian to my mother give; Twould make her amiable, and subdue my father Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should hunt Des. Is it possible? Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: A sibyl that had number'd in the world The sun to make two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work. The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk, And it was died in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts. A LOVER'S COMPUTATION OF TIME. What I keep a week away? seven days and nights! Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times? O weary reckoning! ACT IV. Oth. OTHELLO'S DISTRACTION. What hath he said? Iago. 'Faith, that he did,-I know not what he did Oth. What? what? Iago. Lie Oth. Iago. With her? With her, on her; what you will. Oth. Lie with her! lie on her-We say lie on * Enchantress. her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's fulsome. Handkerchief,-confessions, handkerchief. To confess, and be hanged for his labour.*-First to be hanged, and then to confess:-I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing passion, without some instruction. It is not words, that shake me thus:-Pish!-Noses, ears, and lips; -Is it possible?- -Confess!-Handkerchief!-0 [Falls in a trance. devil! HIS FONDNESS. A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman! Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's side, and command him tasks. Iago. Nay, that's not your way. Oth. Hang her; I do but say what she is: So delicate with her needle!-An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!-Of so high and plenteous wit and invention! Iago. She's the worse for all this. Oth. O, a thousand, a thousand times:-And then, of so gentle a condition!† Iago. Ay, too gentle. Oth. Nay, that's certain: But yet the pity of it, Iago!-0, lago, the pity of it, Iago. HIS CONFIRMED JEALOUSY. Oth. Mistress, Des. Oth. My lord? What would you with her, sir? Lod. Who, I, my lord? Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her turn; Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, † Of so sweet disposition. 24* Concerning this, sir,-O, well-painted passion; I'll send for you anon.—Sir, I obey the mandate, You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.-Goats, and monkies! [Exit. Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA. port? I understand a fury in your words, But not the words. Oth. Why, what art thou? Des. Your wife, myrd; your truc And loyal wife. Oth. Come, swear it, da thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: the fore be double Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am I false? Oth. O Desdemona! away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day!— Why do you weep' Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Oth. All kinds of sores, and shames on my bare head; A fixed figure, for the time of scorn Yet could I bear that too; well, very well: To knot and gender in!-turn thy complexion there Des. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest. Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed! Committed!-0 thou public commoner! I should make very forges of my cheeks, Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth, Des. No, as I am a christian: By heaven, you do me wrong Oth. Are not you a strumpet? Des. If to preserve this vessel for my lord, From any other foul unlawful touch, Be-not to be a strumpet, I am none. Oth. What, not a whore? Des. Oth. Is it possible? No, as I shall be save Des. O, heaven forgive us! * Treasured up. |