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Othello, the Moor of Venice
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EMILIA
'Las, what's the matter? what's the matter, husband?
IAGO
Cassio hath here been set on in the dark
By Roderigo, and fellows that are 'scap'd:
He's almost slain, and Roderigo dead.
EMILIA
Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!
IAGO
This is the fruit of whoring. – Pr'ythee, Emilia,
Go know of Cassio where he supp'd to-night. —
What, do you shake at that?
BIANCA
He supp'd at my house; but I therefore shake 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, let's go see poor Cassio dress'd. —
Come, mistress, you must tell's another tale. —
Emilia, run you to the citadel,
And tell my lord and lady what hath happ'd. —
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 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 hers 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 flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me: – but once put out thy light,
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,
It must needs wither: – I'll smell it on the tree. —
[Kissing her.]
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 ne'er so fatal. I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: this sorrow's heavenly;
It strikes where it doth love. – She wakes.
DESDEMONA
Who's there? Othello?
OTHELLO
Ay, Desdemona.
DESDEMONA
Will you come to bed, my lord?
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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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