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HIS PATHETIC UPBRAIDING OF DESDEMONA. Des. Upon my knees, what doth your speech im
I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
Oth. Why, what art thou ?
Your wife, my lord : your true And loyal wife.
Oth. Come, swear it, damn thyself; Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double-damn'd, Swear—thou art honest. Des.
: Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as
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.
Had it pleased 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 fix'd figure, for the hand of Scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,-
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well :
But there, where I have garner'd up* my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence !
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads
To knot and gender in !-Turn thy complexion there!
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim;
Ay, there, look grim as hell !
Des. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. Othou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and snell'st so sweet,
That the sense aches at thee.—'Would thou hadst ne'er been born!
Oth. Mistress, —
My lord ?
What would you with her, sir ?
Lod. Who, I my lord ?
Oth. Ay: you did wish that I would make her turn :
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,–0 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 !
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 !
OTHELLO'S IRRESOLUTION TO MURDER DESDEMONA.
SCENE. A Bedchamber : Desdemona in bed, asleep. A light
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 :*
*i. e., The light of life.
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me: but once put out thine,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat, [rose,
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It needs must wither :-'I'll smell it on the tree.-
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,
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.
Had she been true,
If Heaven would make me such another world
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, *
I'd not have sold her for it.
HIS SPEECH BEFORE HIS DEATH.
Soft you; a 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 loved 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 subdued 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 traduced the state,
I took by the throat the circumcised dog,
And smote him—thus.
0, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes