Act 3 Flashcards
I never knew
a Florentine more kind and honest
he’s never any thing but
your true servant
for thy solicitor shall rather die
than give thy cause away
that he would steal away so guilty-like
seeing you coming
shall’t be tonight at supper?
no, not to-night
why then to-morrow night, or Tuesday morn
on Tuesday noon, at night; on Wednesday morn
tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves
or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm
excellent
wretch!
as if there was some monster in his thought
too hideous to be shown
and for I know thou’rt full
of love and honesty
as thou dost ruminate
and give thy worst of thoughts the worst of words
though I am bound to every act of duty
I am not bound to that all slaves are free to
it is my nature’s plague to spy into abuses
and oft my jealousy shapes thoughts that are not
nor for my manhood, honesty and wisdom
to let you know my thoughts
beware, my lord, of jealousy
it is the green-eyed monster
the smallest fear of doubt or her revolt
for she had eyes, and chose me
she did decieve
her father, marrying you
haply, for I am black
and have not these soft parts of conversation
o, curse of marriage
that we can call these delicate creatures ours and not their appetites
if she be false
o, then heaven mocks itself
heaven knows, not I;
I nothing but to please his fantasy
a thing for me?
it is a common thing- (ha)
poor lady
she’ll run mad when she shall lack it
farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
farewell! Othello’s occuptation gone!
villain, be sure thou
prove my love a whore
her name, that was as fresh as Dian’s visage
is now begrimed and black as mine own face
there are a kind of man so loose of soul
that in their sleeps will mutter their affairs
cry ‘o sweet creature’
and then kiss me hard
I’ll tear her
all to pieces
sometimes seen a handkerchief
spotted with strawberries in your wife’s hand
o, that the slave
had forty thousand lives
arise, black vengeance
from thy hollow cell
o,
blood, blood, blood!
even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace
shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love
now, by yond marble heaven
in the due reverence of a sacred vow (kneels)
Iago doth give up
the execution of his wit, hands, heart, to wrong’d Othello’s service
this hand of yours requires
a sequester from liberty; fasting and prayer
but if she lost it, or made a gift of it
my father’s eye should hold her loathed
why do you speak so startingly and rash?
is it lost? is it gone?
I pray, talk me of Cassio
the handkerchief!
they are all but stomachs and we all but food;
they eat us hungerly, and when they are full they belch us
my lord is not my lord
nor should I know him
and, like the devill, from his very arm
puff’d his brother
alas the day,
I never gave him cause!
how is it with you,
my most fair Bianca!
this is some token from a newer friend
to the felt absence I now feel a cause
as like enough it will
I’ld have it copied
and think it no addition, nor my wish
to have him see me woman’d
not that I love you not
but that you do not love me
