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All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest.
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 bollow mine of earth, And will not hear it: What committed !Impudent strumpet! Des.
By heaven, you do me wrong. Oth. Are not you a strumpet? Des.
No, as I am'a christian:
* Treasured up
If to preserve this vessel for my lord,
Oth. What, not a whore ?
No, as I shall be saved.
I cry you mercy, then; I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, That married with Othello.
0, good Iago, What shall I do to win my lord again? Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel; If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sensc, Delighted them in any other form; Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will,—though he do shake me off To beggarly divorcement,- love him dearly, Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
Had sbe been true,
* A precious stone.
SCENE. A Bedchamber : Desdemona in bed asleep.
A light burning.
Takes off his Sword.
[Kissing her. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword!-One more, one more. Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,
* i. e. The light of life.
And love thee after:-One more, and this the last:
HIS CONFUSION AFTER THE MURDER.
Behold! I have a weapon; A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day, That, with this little arm, and this good sword, I have made my way through more impediments Than twenty times your stop:-But, О vain boast! Who can control his fate? 'tis not so now. Be not afraid ; though you do see me weapon’d; Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. Do you go back dismay'd ? 'tis a lost fear; Man but a rush against Othello's breast, And he retires !-Where should Othello go?Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench! Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt*, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl? Even like thy chastity.0, cursed, cursed slave !-Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulphur!
HIS SPEECH BEFORE HIS DEATH. Soft, you; word or two, before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know it; 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 lov'd 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 Judean, threw a pearl away, Richer than all his tribe; of one, whose subdu'd 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 traduc'd the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog, And smote him-thus.
Romeo and Juliet.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs ;