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to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone: I strike it, and it hurts
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! 0, she will sing the savageness out of a bear! Of so high and plenteous wit and invention!
lago. 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, lago!—0, Iago, the pity of it, Iago.
HIS CONFIRMED JEALOUSY.
My lord ?
What would you with her, sir? Lod. Who, I, my lord?
[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, - 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 monkeys!
HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA.
Oth. Why, what art thou?
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, Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too. Oth.
Had it 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 (alas !) to make me A fixed figure, for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
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 ?
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
By heaven, you do me wrong.
No, as I am a christian;
* Treasured up.
No, as I shall be sav'd.
Oth. I cry you mercy, then;
DESDEMONA'S FIDELITY. O 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 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
life, But never taint my love.
A Light burning.
[Takes off his Smord. 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 wife: My wife! my wife! what wife?—I have no wife: 0, 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.
HIS LOVE. Had she been true, If heaven would make me such another world
* i. e. The light of life.