Doct. Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly. Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One; two; why then 'tis time to do't:Hell is murky !-Fie; my lord, fie a soldier, and afear'd? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady. M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now ?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean ?-No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting. Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not. Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that Heaven knows what she has known. Oh ! Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. oh! oh! Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged. Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body. Doct. Well, well, well,— Gent. 'Pray God it be, sir. Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your night-gown, look not so pale:-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave. Doct. Even so ? Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand; what's done, cannot be undone: to bed, to bed, to bed. REFLECTIONS ON LIFE. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, DISEASES OF THE MIND INCURABLE Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased; OTHELLO. OTHELLO'S DESCRIPTION TO THE SENATE OF HIS WINNING THE AFFECTIONS OF DESDEMONA. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, That I have ta'en away this good man's daughter It is most true; true, I have married her : The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used Their dearest action* in the tented field; And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; In speaking for myself: yet, by your gracious patience, Best exertion. I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver Of my whole course of love: what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, (For such proceeding I am charged withal) I won his daughter with. Her father loved me; oft invited me; From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes, I ran it through, even from my boyish days, Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, These things to hear, Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Whereof by parcelst she had something heard, And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke *My behaviour. † Parts. Intention and attention were once synonymous. She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it: yet she wish'd That Heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me; And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake; And I lov'd her that she did pity them. |