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Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart?
REFLECTIONS ON LIFE.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle; Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour
'Tis the curse of service;
IAGO'S DISPRAISE OF HONESTY. We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, For nought but provender: and, when he's old,
cashier'd: Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are,
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Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty,
Do themselves homage: these fellows have some
S-SOLE MOTIVE FOR MARRYING,
OTHELLO'S DESCRIPTION TO THE SENATE OF HIS
WINNING THE AFFECTIONS OF DESDEMONA. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approv'd good masters, That I have ta’en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her; The very head and front of my offending * Outward show of civility.
Hath this extent, no more.
Rude am I in my speech, And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action* in the tented field; And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious pa
tience, I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver [charms, Of
my whole course of love; what drugs, what What conjurations, and what mighty magic, (For such proceeding I am charg'd withal) I won his daughter with.
Her father lov'd me; oft invited me;
These things to hear, Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, * Best exertion.
+ My behaviour.
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd, she had not heard it; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she
thank'd me; And bade me, if I had a friend that lov’d her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint, I spake: She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass’d; And I lov'd her, that she did pity them.
O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken’d death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high, and duck again as low As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul liath her content so absolute,
+ Intention and attention were once synonymous.
That not another comfort like to this
A LOVER'S EXCLAMATION. Farewell, my Desdemona: I will come to thee
OTHELLO'S FIRST SUSPICION.
Think, my lord?
Think, my lord!
thing: I heard thee say but now,—Thou lik’dst not that, When Cassio left my wife; What didst not like? And, when I told thee-he was of my counsel In my
whole course of wooing, thou cry’dst, Indeed! And didst contract and purse thy brow together, As if thou then hadst shut
up in thy brain Some horrible conceit: If thou dost love me, Show me thy thought.
Iago. My lord, you know I love you.
I think, thou dost; And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty, And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them