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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! O, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.
HIS CONFIRMED JEALOUSY.
Lod. Who, I, my lord?
you with her, sir? [turn: Oth. Ay; you did wish, that I would make her Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on, And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep; And she's obedient, as you say, obedient,Very obedient;-Proceed you in your tears.Concerning this, sir,-O well painted passion! I am commanded home;-Get you away; I'll send for you anon.-Sir, I obey the mandate, And will return to Venice;-Hence, avaunt! [Exit DESDEMONA. Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, to-night, I do entreat that we may sup together.
* Of so sweet a disposition.
You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.-Goats and mon
HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA.
Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech imI understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
Oth. Why, what art thou?
And loyal wife.
Your wife, my lord; your true
Come, swear it, damn thyself;
Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double Swear-thou art honest.
Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as
hell. [false? Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am I Oth. O Desdemona! away! away! away! Des. Alas, the heavy day!-Why do you weep? Am I the occasion of these tears, my lord? If, haply, you my father do suspect,
An instrument of this your calling back,
Had it pleas'd heaven To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest. Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet, That the sense aches at thee.-'Would, thou hadst ne'er been born!
Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
By heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. Are not you a strumpet? Des. No, as I am a christian; 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?
Oth. Is it possible?
No, as I shall be sav'd.
Des. O, heaven forgive us!
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice,
O good Iago,
What shall I do to win my lord again?
Good friend, go to him: for, by this light of heaven,
But never taint my love.
OTHELLO'S IRRESOLUTION TO MURDER DESDEMONA. SCENE. A Bedchamber: DESDEMONA in Bed asleep. A Light burning.
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause.- -Yet I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
[Takes off his Sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out, the light, and then put out the light*:
Should I repent me:-but once put out thine,
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It needs must wither:-I'll smell it on the tree.-
But they are cruel tears: This sorrow's heavenly;
HIS CONFUSION AFTER THE MURDER.
Yes; 'tis Emelia:-by and by. She's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death: The noise was high.-Ha! no more moving? Still as the grave. Shall she come in! Were't good? I think, she stirs again :-No.-What's the best? If she come in, she'll sure speak to my wife: My wife! my wife! what wife?—I have no wife: O, insupportable! O heavy hour!
Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse
Of sun and moon; and that the affrighted globe Should yawn at alteration.
Had she been true,
If heaven would make me such another world
* i. c. The light of life.