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OTHELLO'S STORY OF THE HANDKERCHIEF. Oth. That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give; She was a charmer,* and could almost read The thoughts of people: she told her, while sti

kept it, "Twould make her amiable, and subdue my fathe Entirely to her love; but if she lost it, Or made a gift of it, my father's eye. Should hold her loathly, and his spirits should bunt After new fancies: She, dying, gave it me; And bid me, when my fate would have me wive, To give it her. I did so: and take heed of 't, Make it a darling like your precious eye; To lose or give it away, were such perdition, As nothing

else could match. Des.

Is it possible? Oth. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: A sibyl that had number'd in the world The sun to make two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work. The worms were hallow'd, that did breed the silk; And it was died in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.

A LOVER'S COMPUTATION OF TIME. What I keep a week away? seven days and night Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times? O weary reckoning!



What hath he said?
lago. "Faith, that he did, -I know not what he di
Oth. What? what?
Iago. Lie
Oth. With her?
Iago. With her, on her; what you will
Qih. Lie with her! lie on her-We say, lie

* Enchantress.

her, when they belie her: Lie with her! that's ful-
some.-Handkerchief,-confessions ---handkerchief.
To confess, and be hanged for his labour.*-First to
be banged, and then to confess:- I tremble at it. Na-
ture would not invest herself in such shadowing
passion, without some instruction. It is not words,
that shake me thus:-Pish!-Noses, ears, and lips;
- Is it possible? -Confess!-Handkerchief

[Falls in a trance.


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A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!
Iago. Nay, you must forget that.

Oth. Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night; for she shall not live: No, my heart is turned to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. 0, 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 de licate with her needle! An admirable musician! O,

she will sing the savageness out of a bear! Of so į high and plenteous wit and invention!

Iago. She's the worse for all this.

Oth. 0, a thousand, a thousand times:--And then, of so gentle a condition !+

Iago. Ay, too gentle.

Oih. Nay, that's certain: But yet the pity of it,
Iago!--0, lago, the pity of it, Iago.

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

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.--

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* A proverbial saying.
† Of so sweet a disposition.




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 mon-

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-

Swear--thou art honest.

Heaven doth truly know it. Oth. Heaven truly knows, that thou art false as

Des. To whom, my lord? with whom? How am,

I false?
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 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

I 'T I 1 ' Is A

F В.

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A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at,-
0! 0!
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 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. 0, 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,
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 hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it: What committed.!-
Impudent strumpet!

By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a strumpet?

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?

No, as I shall be saved
Oth. Is it possible?
Des, 0, heaven forgive us!

* Treasured up

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I cry you mercy, then; I took you for that cunning whore of Venice, That married with Othello.

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

defeat my life, But never taint my love.

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SCENE.-A Bedchamber; DESDEMONA in bed

asleep. A lighi 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 her's 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:
If I quench thee, thou fļaming 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,
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd

thy rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again,

* i: e. The light of life.

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