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Othello, the Moor of Venice
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OTHELLO
Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA
Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO
If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.
DESDEMONA
Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
OTHELLO
Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unpreparèd 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
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 death's unnatural that kills for 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. What's the matter?
OTHELLO
That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
Thou gav'st to Cassio.
DESDEMONA
No, by my life and soul!
Send for the man, and ask him.
OTHELLO
Sweet soul, take heed,
Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed.
DESDEMONA
Ay, but not yet to die.
Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona?
DESDEMONA
Ay, my lord.
OTHELLO
If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.
DESDEMONA
Alack, my lord, what may you mean by that?
OTHELLO
Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by.
I would not kill thy unpreparèd 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
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 death's unnatural that kills for 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. What's the matter?
OTHELLO
That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee
Thou gav'st to Cassio.
DESDEMONA
No, by my life and soul!
Send for the man, and ask him.
OTHELLO
Sweet soul, take heed,
Take heed of perjury; thou'rt on thy death-bed.
DESDEMONA
Ay, but not yet to die.
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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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