« PreviousContinue »
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell'! Othello's occupation's gone!
Iago. Is it possible!—My lord,
Oih. 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, Than answer my wak'd wrath. Iago.
Is it come to this? oih. Make me to see it; or (at the least) so proveit, That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop, To hang a doubt on: or, wo upon thy life! Iago. My noble lord
Oih. 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.-0 wretched fool, That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice! O monstrous world! Take note! take note, O world, To be direct and honest, is not safe.-. I thank you for this profit; and, from hence, I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.
Oth. Nay, stay:-Thou should'st be honest.
Iago. I should be wise: for honesty's a fool,
By the world,
* All tenderness, all pity.
OTHELLO'S STORY OF THE HANDKERCHIEF. Oth. That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give; She was a charmer,* and could almost read The thoughts of people: she told her, while she
kept it, Twould make her amiable, and subdue my father Entirely to her love; but if she lost it, Or made a gift of it, my
eye Should hold her loathly, ard his spirits should hunt After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me; And bid me, when my fate would have me wive, To give it her. I did so: and take heed of't, Make it a darling like your precious eye; To lose or give 't away, were such perdition, As nothing else could match. 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 haltow'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!
OTHELLO'S DISTRACTION. Oth.
What hath he said? Iago. 'Faith, that he did, I know not what he did Oth. What? what? Iago. LieOth. With her? Iago. With her, on her; what you will. Oih. Lie with her! lie on herk-We say lie on
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:-1 tremble at it. Na. ture 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!O devil!
[Falls in a trance. HIS FONDNESS. A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman! Iago. Nay, you must forget that.
Oih. 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. 0, 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.
Olh. Hang her; I do but say what she is: So delicate with her needle!-An admirable musician! 0, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!-Of so high and plenteous wit and invention !
Tago. She's the worse for all this.
Oih. O, a thousand, a thousand times:-And then, of so gentle a condition !!
Iago. Ay, too gentle.
Oih. Nay, that's certain : But yet the pity of it, Iago!-0, lago, the pity of it, Iago.
HIS CONFIRMED JEALOUSY.
What would you with her, sir? Lod. Who, I, my
lord? Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her
* A proverbial saying.
Concerning this, sir,-0, well-painted passion;
[Exit DUSDEMONA, Cassio shall have my place. And,-sir, to-night, I do entreat that we may sup together You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.-Goats, and monkies!
[Exit. HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA. Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im
Oth. Why, what art thou?
Your wife, my ord; your truc
Come, swear it, data thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: the: tesore be double
damn'd, Swear--thou art honest. Des.
Heaven "uth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, the thou art false as
hell. Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am
Des. Alas, the heavy day!- Why do you weep'
H dit pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction: had he rain'd All kinds of sores, and shames on my bare head; Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips; Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes; I should have found in some part of my soul A drop of patience: but (ala: , to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,
ne'er been born! 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, That would to cinders burn up modesty, Did I but speak thy deeds.--What committed! Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks; The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth, And will not hear it: What committed! Impudent strumpet! Des.
By heaven, you do me wrong Olh. Are not you a strumpet? Des.
No, as I am a christian:
Oth. What, not a whore?
No, as I shall be save
* Treasured up