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Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. Othou 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 ?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed! Committed!
—0 thou public commoner!
By heaven, you do me wrong.
No, as I am a christian;
other foul unlawful touch, Be—not to be a strumpet, I am none. Oth. What, not a whore?
No, as I shall be sav'd.
Oth. I cry you mercy, then;
DESDEMONA'S FIDELITY. O good lago, 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 sense, 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
my life, But never taint
A Light burning.
[Takes off his Sword. Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light*:
thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither:-_I'll smell it on the tree.
[Kissing her. O balmy breath, that dost almost persuade Justice to break her sword!-Onemore, one more. Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after:
-One more, and this the last: So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears: This sorrow's heavenly; It strikes, where it doth love.
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 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,
* i. e. The light of life.
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite*,
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 comptt This look of thine will hurl
soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl? Even like thy chastity.O cursed, cursed slave!- Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight! Blow me about in winds, roast me in sulphur! Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire! O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead? Dead? O! O! O!
HIS SPEECH BEFORE HIS DEATH.
you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, [speak
ROMEO AND JULIET.
Love is a smoke rais'd with a fume of sighs;
O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman,