Othello William Shakespeare (best books to read for success .txt) đ
- Author: William Shakespeare
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Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:
For I mine own gainâd knowledge should profane,
If I would time expend with such a snipe.
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor:
And it is thought abroad, that âtwixt my sheets
He has done my office: I know not ifât be true;
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do as if for surety. He holds me well;
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassioâs a proper man: let me see now:
To get his place and to plume up my will
In double knaveryâ âHow, how? Letâs see:â â
After some time, to abuse Othelloâs ear
That he is too familiar with his wife.
He hath a person and a smooth dispose
To be suspected, framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,
That thinks men honest that but seem to be so,
And will as tenderly be led by the nose
As asses are.
I haveât. It is engenderâd. Hell and night
Must bring this monstrous birth to the worldâs light. Exit.
A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
Enter Montano and two Gentlemen. Montano What from the cape can you discern at sea? First GentlemanNothing at all: it is a highwrought flood;
I cannot, âtwixt the heaven and the main,
Descry a sail.
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;
A fuller blast neâer shook our battlements:
If it hath ruffianâd so upon the sea,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?
A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,
Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
If that the Turkish fleet
Be not enshelterâd and embayâd, they are drownâd:
It is impossible they bear it out.
News, lads! our wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath so bangâd the Turks,
That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.
The ship is here put in,
A Veronesa; Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
Pray heavens he be;
For I have served him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Letâs to the seaside, ho!
As well to see the vessel thatâs come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and the aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
Come, letâs do so:
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.
Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
Give him defence against the elements,
For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea.
His bark is stoutly timberâd, his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance;
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure. A cry within âA sail, a sail, a sail!â
The town is empty; on the
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