id stringlengths 16 16 | text stringlengths 151 2.3k | word_count int64 30 60 | source stringclasses 1 value |
|---|---|---|---|
twg_000000024200 | point his slow unmoving finger at. Yet could I bear that too, well, very well: But there, where I have garnerd 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024201 | and gender in!turn thy complexion there, Patience, thou young and rose-lippd cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell! DESDEMONA. I hope my noble lord esteems me honest. OTHELLO. O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smellst so sweet, That the sense aches at thee, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024202 | Would thou hadst neer been born! DESDEMONA. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed? OTHELLO. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What committed? Committed! O 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024203 | the nose at it, and the moon winks; The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets, Is hushd within the hollow mine of earth, And will not hear it. What committed! Impudent strumpet! DESDEMONA. By heaven, you do me wrong. OTHELLO. Are not you a strumpet? DESDEMONA. No, as I am a Christian: If to preserve this vessel for my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024204 | lord From any other foul unlawful touch Be not to be a strumpet, I am none. OTHELLO. What, not a whore? DESDEMONA. No, as I shall be savd. OTHELLO. Ist possible? DESDEMONA. O, heaven forgive us! OTHELLO. I cry you mercy then. I took you for that cunning whore of Venice That married with Othello.You, mistress, Enter Emilia. That have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024205 | the office opposite to Saint Peter, And keeps the gate of hell. You, you, ay, you! We have done our course; theres money for your pains. I pray you turn the key, and keep our counsel. [_Exit._] EMILIA. Alas, what does this gentleman conceive? How do you, madam? How do you, my good lady? DESDEMONA. Faith, half asleep. EMILIA. Good | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024206 | madam, whats the matter with my lord? DESDEMONA. With who? EMILIA. Why, with my lord, madam. DESDEMONA. Who is thy lord? EMILIA. He that is yours, sweet lady. DESDEMONA. I have none. Do not talk to me, Emilia, I cannot weep, nor answer have I none But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight Lay on my bed my wedding | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024207 | sheets, remember, And call thy husband hither. EMILIA. Heres a change indeed! [_Exit._] DESDEMONA. Tis meet I should be usd so, very meet. How have I been behavd, that he might stick The smallst opinion on my least misuse? Enter Iago and Emilia. IAGO. What is your pleasure, madam? How ist with you? DESDEMONA. I cannot tell. Those that do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024208 | teach young babes Do it with gentle means and easy tasks. He might have chid me so, for, in good faith, I am a child to chiding. IAGO. Whats the matter, lady? EMILIA. Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhord her, Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her, As true hearts cannot bear. DESDEMONA. Am I that name, Iago? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024209 | IAGO. What name, fair lady? DESDEMONA. Such as she says my lord did say I was. EMILIA. He calld her whore: a beggar in his drink Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. IAGO. Why did he so? DESDEMONA. I do not know. I am sure I am none such. IAGO. Do not weep, do not weep: alas | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024210 | the day! EMILIA. Hath she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, and her friends, To be calld whore? would it not make one weep? DESDEMONA. It is my wretched fortune. IAGO. Beshrew him fort! How comes this trick upon him? DESDEMONA. Nay, heaven doth know. EMILIA. I will be hangd, if some eternal villain, Some busy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024211 | and insinuating rogue, Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office, Have not devisd this slander. Ill be hangd else. IAGO. Fie, there is no such man. It is impossible. DESDEMONA. If any such there be, heaven pardon him! EMILIA. A halter pardon him, and hell gnaw his bones! Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company? What | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024212 | place? what time? what form? what likelihood? The Moors abused by some most villainous knave, Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow. O heaven, that such companions thoudst unfold, And put in every honest hand a whip To lash the rascals naked through the world Even from the east to the west! IAGO. Speak within door. EMILIA. O, fie upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024213 | them! Some such squire he was That turnd your wit the seamy side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor. IAGO. You are a fool. Go to. DESDEMONA. Alas, 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024214 | Here I kneel. If eer 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024215 | forswear me! Unkindness may do much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love. I cannot say whore, It does abhor me now I speak the word; To do the act that might the addition earn Not the worlds mass of vanity could make me. IAGO. I pray you, be content. Tis but his humour. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024216 | business of the state does him offence, And he does chide with you. DESDEMONA. If twere no other, IAGO. Tis but so, I warrant. [_Trumpets within._] Hark, how these instruments summon to supper. The messengers of Venice stay the meat. Go in, and weep not. All things shall be well. [_Exeunt Desdemona and Emilia._] Enter Roderigo. How now, Roderigo? RODERIGO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024217 | I do not find that thou dealest justly with me. IAGO. What in the contrary? RODERIGO. Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago, and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet persuaded to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024218 | put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered. IAGO. Will you hear me, Roderigo? RODERIGO. Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and performances are no kin together. IAGO. You charge me most unjustly. RODERIGO. With naught but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me to deliver | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024219 | to Desdemona would half have corrupted a votarist: you have told me she hath received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquaintance, but I find none. IAGO. Well, go to, very well. RODERIGO. Very well, go to, I cannot go to, man, nor tis not very well. Nay, I say tis very scurvy, and begin | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024220 | to find myself fopped in it. IAGO. Very well. RODERIGO. I tell you tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona. If she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my unlawful solicitation. If not, assure yourself I will seek satisfaction of you. IAGO. You have said now. RODERIGO. Ay, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024221 | said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing. IAGO. Why, now I see theres mettle in thee, and even from this instant do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo. Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, but yet I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair. RODERIGO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024222 | It hath not appeared. IAGO. I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your suspicion is not without wit and judgement. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,I mean purpose, courage, and valour,this night show it. If thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024223 | this world with treachery and devise engines for my life. RODERIGO. Well, what is it? Is it within reason and compass? IAGO. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in Othellos place. RODERIGO. Is that true? Why then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice. IAGO. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024224 | him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered here by some accident: wherein none can be so determinate as the removing of Cassio. RODERIGO. How do you mean removing of him? IAGO. Why, by making him uncapable of Othellos place: knocking out his brains. RODERIGO. And that you would have me to do? IAGO. Ay, if you dare do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024225 | yourself a profit and a right. He sups tonight with a harlotry, and thither will I go to him. He knows not yet of his honourable fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one, you may take him at your pleasure: I will be near to second your attempt, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024226 | and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste. About it. RODERIGO. I will hear further reason for this. IAGO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024227 | And you shall be satisfied. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. Cyprus. Another Room in the Castle. Enter Othello, Lodovico, Desdemona, Emilia and Attendants. LODOVICO. I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further. OTHELLO. O, pardon me; twill do me good to walk. LODOVICO. Madam, good night. I humbly thank your ladyship. DESDEMONA. Your honour is most welcome. OTHELLO. Will you walk, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024228 | sir? O, Desdemona, DESDEMONA. My lord? OTHELLO. Get you to bed on th instant, I will be returnd forthwith. Dismiss your attendant there. Look t be done. DESDEMONA. I will, my lord. [_Exeunt Othello, Lodovico and Attendants._] EMILIA. How goes it now? He looks gentler than he did. DESDEMONA. He says he will return incontinent, He hath commanded me to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024229 | go to bed, And bade me to dismiss you. EMILIA. Dismiss me? DESDEMONA. It was his bidding. Therefore, good Emilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu. We must not now displease him. EMILIA. I would you had never seen him! DESDEMONA. So would not I. My love doth so approve him, That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024230 | Prithee, unpin me,have grace and favour in them. EMILIA. I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed. DESDEMONA. Alls one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds! If I do die before thee, prithee, shroud me In one of those same sheets. EMILIA. Come, come, you talk. DESDEMONA. My mother had a maid calld Barbary, She was | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024231 | in love, and he she lovd provd mad And did forsake her. She had a song of willow, An old thing twas, but it expressd her fortune, And she died singing it. That song tonight Will not go from my mind. I have much to do But to go hang my head all at one side And sing it like | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024232 | poor Barbary. Prithee dispatch. EMILIA. Shall I go fetch your night-gown? DESDEMONA. No, unpin me here. This Lodovico is a proper man. EMILIA. A very handsome man. DESDEMONA. He speaks well. EMILIA. I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip. DESDEMONA. [_Singing._] _The poor soul sat sighing by a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024233 | sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow. The fresh streams ran by her, and murmurd her moans, Sing willow, willow, willow; Her salt tears fell from her, and softend the stones;_ Lay by these: [_Sings._] _Sing willow, willow, willow._ Prithee hie thee. Hell come anon. [_Sings._] | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024234 | _Sing all a green willow must be my garland. Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve,_ Nay, thats not next. Hark! who ist that knocks? EMILIA. Its the wind. DESDEMONA. [_Sings._] _I calld my love false love; but what said he then? Sing willow, willow, willow: If I court mo women, youll couch with mo men._ So get thee | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024235 | gone; good night. Mine eyes do itch; Doth that bode weeping? EMILIA. Tis neither here nor there. DESDEMONA. I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men! Dost thou in conscience think,tell me, Emilia, That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind? EMILIA. There be some such, no question. DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024236 | a deed for all the world? EMILIA. Why, would not you? DESDEMONA. No, by this heavenly light! EMILIA. Nor I neither by this heavenly light, I might dot as well i the dark. DESDEMONA. Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world? EMILIA. The worlds a huge thing. It is a great price For a small vice. DESDEMONA. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024237 | In troth, I think thou wouldst not. EMILIA. In troth, I think I should, and undot when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition; but, for the whole worldwhy, who would not make her husband a cuckold to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024238 | make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for t. DESDEMONA. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world. EMILIA. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i the world; and having the world for your labour, tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right. DESDEMONA. I do not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024239 | think there is any such woman. EMILIA. Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would store the world they played for. But I do think it is their husbands faults If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps; Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024240 | us. Or say they strike us, Or scant our former having in despite. Why, we have galls; and though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do When | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024241 | they change us for others? Is it sport? I think it is. And doth affection breed it? I think it doth. Ist frailty that thus errs? It is so too. And have not we affections, Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have? Then let them use us well: else let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024242 | us so. DESDEMONA. Good night, good night. Heaven me such usage send, Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend! [_Exeunt._] ACT V SCENE I. Cyprus. A Street. Enter Iago and Roderigo. IAGO. Here, stand behind this bulk. Straight will he come. Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home. Quick, quick, fear nothing; Ill be at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024243 | thy elbow. It makes us, or it mars us, think on that, And fix most firm thy resolution. RODERIGO. Be near at hand, I may miscarry in t. IAGO. Here, at thy hand. Be bold, and take thy stand. [_Retires to a little distance._] RODERIGO. I have no great devotion to the deed; And yet he hath given me satisfying | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024244 | reasons. Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword; he dies. [_Goes to his stand._] IAGO. I have rubbd this young quat almost to the sense, And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Every way makes my gain. Live Roderigo, He calls me to a restitution large Of gold | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024245 | and jewels that I bobbd from him, As gifts to Desdemona. It must not be. If Cassio do remain, He hath a daily beauty in his life That makes me ugly. And besides, the Moor May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril. No, he must die. But so, I hear him coming. Enter Cassio. RODERIGO. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024246 | know his gait; tis he. Villain, thou diest! [_Rushes out, and makes a pass at Cassio._] CASSIO. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou knowst. I will make proof of thine. [_Draws, and wounds Roderigo._] RODERIGO. O, I am slain! [_Iago rushes from his post, cuts Cassio behind in the leg, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024247 | exit._] CASSIO. I am maimd forever. Help, ho! murder, murder! [_Falls._] Enter Othello. OTHELLO. The voice of Cassio. Iago keeps his word. RODERIGO. O, villain that I am! OTHELLO. It is even so. CASSIO. O, help, ho! light! a surgeon! OTHELLO. Tis he. O brave Iago, honest and just, That hast such noble sense of thy friends wrong! Thou teachest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024248 | me,minion, your dear lies dead, And your unblessd fate hies. Strumpet, I come! Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted; Thy bed, lust-staind, shall with lusts blood be spotted. [_Exit._] Enter Lodovico and Gratiano. CASSIO. What, ho! No watch? No passage? murder, murder! GRATIANO. Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful. CASSIO. O, help! LODOVICO. Hark! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024249 | RODERIGO. O wretched villain! LODOVICO. Two or three groan. It is a heavy night. These may be counterfeits. Lets thinkt unsafe To come in to the cry without more help. RODERIGO. Nobody come? Then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago with a light. LODOVICO. Hark! GRATIANO. Heres one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons. IAGO. Whos there? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024250 | Whose noise is this that cries on murder? LODOVICO. We do not know. IAGO. Did not you hear a cry? CASSIO. Here, here! for heavens sake, help me! IAGO. Whats the matter? GRATIANO. This is Othellos ancient, as I take it. LODOVICO. The same indeed, a very valiant fellow. IAGO. What are you here that cry so grievously? CASSIO. Iago? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024251 | O, I am spoild, undone by villains! Give me some help. IAGO. O me, lieutenant! What villains have done this? CASSIO. I think that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away. IAGO. O treacherous villains! [_To Lodovico and Gratiano._] What are you there? Come in and give some help. RODERIGO. O, help me here! CASSIO. Thats one of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024252 | them. IAGO. O murderous slave! O villain! [_Stabs Roderigo._] RODERIGO. O damnd Iago! O inhuman dog! IAGO. Kill men i the dark! Where be these bloody thieves? How silent is this town! Ho! murder! murder! What may you be? Are you of good or evil? LODOVICO. As you shall prove us, praise us. IAGO. Signior Lodovico? LODOVICO. He, sir. IAGO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024253 | I cry you mercy. Heres Cassio hurt by villains. GRATIANO. Cassio! IAGO. How ist, brother? CASSIO. My leg is cut in two. IAGO. Marry, heaven forbid! Light, gentlemen, Ill bind it with my shirt. Enter Bianca. BIANCA. What is the matter, ho? Who ist that cried? IAGO. Who ist that cried? BIANCA. O my dear Cassio, my sweet Cassio! O | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024254 | Cassio, Cassio, Cassio! IAGO. O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be that have thus mangled you? CASSIO. No. GRATIANO. I am sorry to find you thus; I have been to seek you. IAGO. Lend me a garter. So.O, for a chair, To bear him easily hence! BIANCA. Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio! IAGO. Gentlemen | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024255 | all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury. Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come; Lend me a light. Know we this face or no? Alas, my friend and my dear countryman Roderigo? No. Yes, sure; O heaven! Roderigo. GRATIANO. What, of Venice? IAGO. Even he, sir. Did you know him? GRATIANO. Know him? Ay. IAGO. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024256 | Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon. These bloody accidents must excuse my manners, That so neglected you. GRATIANO. I am glad to see you. IAGO. How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair! GRATIANO. Roderigo! IAGO. He, he, tis he. [_A chair brought in._] O, thats well said; the chair. Some good man bear him carefully from hence, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024257 | Ill fetch the generals surgeon. [_To Bianca_] For you, mistress, Save you your labour. He that lies slain here, Cassio, Was my dear friend. What malice was between you? CASSIO. None in the world. Nor do I know the man. IAGO. [_To Bianca._] What, look you pale?O, bear him out o the air. [_Cassio and Roderigo are borne off._] Stay | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024258 | you, good gentlemen.Look you pale, mistress? Do you perceive the gastness of her eye? Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon. Behold her well. I pray you, look upon her. Do you see, gentlemen? Nay, guiltiness will speak Though tongues were out of use. Enter Emilia. EMILIA. Las, whats the matter? Whats the matter, husband? IAGO. Cassio hath | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024259 | here been set on in the dark By Roderigo, and fellows that are scapd. Hes almost slain, and Roderigo dead. EMILIA. Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio! IAGO. This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia, Go know of Cassio where he suppd tonight. What, do you shake at that? BIANCA. He suppd at my house, but I therefore shake | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024260 | not. IAGO. O, did he so? I charge you go with me. EMILIA. Fie, fie upon thee, strumpet! BIANCA. I am no strumpet, but of life as honest As you that thus abuse me. EMILIA. As I? Foh! fie upon thee! IAGO. Kind gentlemen, lets go see poor Cassio dressd. Come, mistress, you must tells another tale. Emilia, run you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024261 | to the citadel, And tell my lord and lady what hath happd. Will you go on afore? [_Aside._] This is the night That either makes me or fordoes me quite. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Cyprus. A Bedchamber in the castle. Desdemona in bed asleep; a light burning. Enter Othello. OTHELLO. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, Let | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024262 | me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause. Yet Ill not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else shell betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light: If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024263 | can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me. But once put out thy light, Thou cunningst pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume. When I have pluckd thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It must needs wither. Ill smell it on the tree. [_Kissing her._] | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024264 | 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 neer so fatal. I must weep, But they are cruel tears. This sorrows heavenly, It strikes where it doth love. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024265 | She wakes. DESDEMONA. Whos there? Othello? OTHELLO. Ay, Desdemona. DESDEMONA. Will you come to bed, my lord? OTHELLO. Have you prayd tonight, Desdemona? DESDEMONA. Ay, my lord. OTHELLO. If you bethink yourself of any crime Unreconcild as yet to heaven and grace, Solicit for it straight. DESDEMONA. Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that? OTHELLO. Well, do it, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024266 | and be brief, I will walk by. I would not kill thy unprepared spirit, No, heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul. DESDEMONA. Talk you of killing? OTHELLO. Ay, I do. DESDEMONA. Then heaven have mercy on me! OTHELLO. Amen, with all my heart! DESDEMONA. If you say so, I hope you will not kill me. OTHELLO. Hum! DESDEMONA. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024267 | And yet I fear you, for you are fatal then When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not, Since guiltiness I know not, but yet I feel I fear. OTHELLO. Think on thy sins. DESDEMONA. They are loves I bear to you. OTHELLO. Ay, and for that thou diest. DESDEMONA. That deaths unnatural that kills for | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024268 | loving. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame. These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me. OTHELLO. Peace, and be still! DESDEMONA. I will so. Whats the matter? OTHELLO. That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee, Thou gavst to Cassio. DESDEMONA. No, by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024269 | my life and soul! Send for the man and ask him. OTHELLO. Sweet soul, take heed, take heed of perjury, Thourt on thy death-bed. DESDEMONA. Ay, but not yet to die. OTHELLO. Yes, presently: Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin. For to deny each article with oath Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception That I do groan withal. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024270 | Thou art to die. DESDEMONA. Then, Lord have mercy on me! OTHELLO. I say, amen. DESDEMONA. And have you mercy too! I never did Offend you in my life, never lovd Cassio But with such general warranty of heaven As I might love. I never gave him token. OTHELLO. By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in s hand. O perjurd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024271 | woman, thou dost stone my heart, And makst me call what I intend to do A murder, which I thought a sacrifice. I saw the handkerchief. DESDEMONA. He found it then. I never gave it him. Send for him hither. Let him confess a truth. OTHELLO. He hath confessd. DESDEMONA. What, my lord? OTHELLO. That he hath usd thee. DESDEMONA. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024272 | How? Unlawfully? OTHELLO. Ay. DESDEMONA. He will not say so. OTHELLO. No, his mouth is stoppd. Honest Iago hath taen order for t. DESDEMONA. O, my fear interprets! What, is he dead? OTHELLO. Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had stomach for them all. DESDEMONA. Alas, he is betrayd, and I undone! OTHELLO. Out, strumpet! Weepst thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024273 | for him to my face? DESDEMONA. O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not! OTHELLO. Down, strumpet! DESDEMONA. Kill me tomorrow, let me live tonight! OTHELLO. Nay, if you strive, DESDEMONA. But half an hour! OTHELLO. Being done, there is no pause. DESDEMONA. But while I say one prayer! OTHELLO. It is too late. [_Smothers her._] EMILIA. [_Within._] My | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024274 | lord, my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord! OTHELLO. What noise is this? Not dead? Not yet quite dead? I that am cruel am yet merciful, I would not have thee linger in thy pain. So, so. EMILIA. [_Within._] What, ho! my lord, my lord! OTHELLO. Whos there? EMILIA. [_Within._] O, good my lord, I would speak a word | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024275 | with you! OTHELLO. Yes. Tis Emilia, by and by. Shes dead. Tis like she comes to speak of Cassios death; The noise was high.Ha! no more moving? Still as the grave. Shall she come in? Weret good? I think she stirs again; no. Whats best to do? If she come in, shell sure speak to my wife. My wife! my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024276 | 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. EMILIA. [_Within._] I do beseech you That I may speak with you, O, good my lord! OTHELLO. I had forgot thee: O, come in, Emilia. Soft, by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024277 | and by; let me the curtains draw. Where art thou? [_Unlocks the door._] Enter Emilia. Whats the matter with thee now? EMILIA. O, my good lord, yonders foul murders done! OTHELLO. What, now? EMILIA. But now, my lord. OTHELLO. It is the very error of the moon, She comes more nearer earth than she was wont And makes men mad. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024278 | EMILIA. Cassio, my lord, hath killd a young Venetian Calld Roderigo. OTHELLO. Roderigo killd? And Cassio killd? EMILIA. No, Cassio is not killd. OTHELLO. Not Cassio killd! Then murders out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harsh. DESDEMONA. O, falsely, falsely murderd! EMILIA. Alas, what cry is that? OTHELLO. That? What? EMILIA. Out, and alas! That was my ladys voice. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024279 | Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again, Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak! DESDEMONA. A guiltless death I die. EMILIA. O, who hath done this deed? DESDEMONA. Nobody; I myself. Farewell. Commend me to my kind lord. O, farewell! [_She dies._] OTHELLO. Why, how should she be murderd? EMILIA. Alas, who knows? OTHELLO. You heard her say herself, it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024280 | was not I. EMILIA. She said so. I must needs report the truth. OTHELLO. Shes like a liar, gone to burning hell. Twas I that killd her. EMILIA. O, the more angel she, And you the blacker devil! OTHELLO. She turnd to folly, and she was a whore. EMILIA. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. OTHELLO. She | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024281 | was false as water. EMILIA. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false: O, she was heavenly true! OTHELLO. Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else. O, I were damnd beneath all depth in hell, But that I did proceed upon just grounds To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all. EMILIA. My husband? OTHELLO. Thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024282 | husband. EMILIA. That she was false to wedlock? OTHELLO. Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true, If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, Id not have sold her for it. EMILIA. My husband? OTHELLO. Ay, twas he that told me first. An honest man he is, and hates the slime That sticks | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024283 | on filthy deeds. EMILIA. My husband? OTHELLO. What needs this iterance, woman? I say thy husband. EMILIA. O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love! My husband say that she was false? OTHELLO. He, woman; I say thy husband: dost understand the word? My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago. EMILIA. If he say so, may his pernicious soul Rot | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024284 | half a grain a day! he lies to the heart. She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. OTHELLO. Ha! EMILIA. Do thy worst: This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven Than thou wast worthy her. OTHELLO. Peace, you were best. EMILIA. Thou hast not half that power to do me harm As I have to be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024285 | hurt. O gull! O dolt! As ignorant as dirt! Thou hast done a deed (I care not for thy sword) Ill make thee known, Though I lost twenty lives. Help! help, ho! help! The Moor hath killd my mistress! Murder, murder! Enter Montano, Gratiano and Iago. MONTANO. What is the matter? How now, general? EMILIA. O, are you come, Iago? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024286 | You have done well, That men must lay their murders on your neck. GRATIANO. What is the matter? EMILIA. Disprove this villain, if thou best a man. He says thou toldst him that his wife was false. I know thou didst not, thourt not such a villain. Speak, for my heart is full. IAGO. I told him what I thought, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024287 | and told no more Than what he found himself was apt and true. EMILIA. But did you ever tell him she was false? IAGO. I did. EMILIA. You told a lie, an odious, damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie. She false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio? IAGO. With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024288 | tongue. EMILIA. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak. My mistress here lies murderd in her bed. ALL. O heavens forfend! EMILIA. And your reports have set the murder on. OTHELLO. Nay, stare not, masters, it is true indeed. GRATIANO. Tis a strange truth. MONTANO. O monstrous act! EMILIA. Villany, villany, villany! I think upont, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024289 | think I smellt; O villany! I thought so then. Ill kill myself for grief. O villany, villany! IAGO. What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home. EMILIA. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. Tis proper I obey him, but not now. Perchance, Iago, I will neer go home. OTHELLO. O! O! O! [_Hanging over his wife._] | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024290 | EMILIA. Nay, lay thee down and roar; For thou hast killd the sweetest innocent That eer did lift up eye. OTHELLO. [_Rising._] O, she was foul! I scarce did know you, uncle, there lies your niece, Whose breath indeed these hands have newly stoppd. I know this act shows horrible and grim. GRATIANO. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy fathers | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024291 | dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now, This sight would make him do a desperate turn, Yea, curse his better angel from his side, And fall to reprobance. OTHELLO. Tis pitiful. But yet Iago knows That she with Cassio hath the act of shame A thousand times | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024292 | committed; Cassio confessd it, And she did gratify his amorous works With that recognizance and pledge of love Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand. It was a handkerchief, an antique token My father gave my mother. EMILIA. O heaven! O heavenly powers! IAGO. Come, hold your peace. EMILIA. Twill out, twill out. I peace? No, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024293 | I will speak as liberal as the north. Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet Ill speak. IAGO. Be wise, and get you home. EMILIA. I will not. [_Iago offers to stab his wife._] GRATIANO. Fie! Your sword upon a woman? EMILIA. O thou dull Moor, that handkerchief thou speakst of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024294 | I found by fortune and did give my husband; For often with a solemn earnestness, More than indeed belongd to such a trifle, He beggd of me to steal it. IAGO. Villanous whore! EMILIA. She give it Cassio! no, alas, I found it, And I did givet my husband. IAGO. Filth, thou liest! EMILIA. By heaven, I do not, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024295 | do not, gentlemen. O murderous coxcomb! What should such a fool Do with so good a wife? OTHELLO Are there not stones in heaven But what serve for thunder? Precious villain! [_Iago stabs Emilia and then runs out._] GRATIANO. The woman falls. Sure, he hath killd his wife. EMILIA. Ay, ay. O, lay me by my mistress side. GRATIANO. Hes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024296 | gone, but his wifes killd. MONTANO. Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon, Which I have here recoverd from the Moor. Come, guard the door without, let him not pass, But kill him rather. Ill after that same villain, For tis a damned slave. [_Exit Montano and Gratiano._] OTHELLO. I am not valiant neither, But every puny whipster gets | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024297 | my sword. But why should honour outlive honesty? Let it go all. EMILIA. What did thy song bode, lady? Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan, And die in music. [_Sings._] _Willow, willow, willow._ Moor, she was chaste. She lovd thee, cruel Moor, So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true; So speaking as I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024298 | think, I die, I die. [_She dies._] OTHELLO. I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brooks temper. O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth. GRATIANO. [_Within._] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear; Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. OTHELLO. Look in upon me then, and speak | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024299 | with me, Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee. Enter Gratiano. GRATIANO. What is the matter? OTHELLO. Behold, I have a weapon. A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldiers 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.