Othello - Act 1
- Created by: Nathalieb
- Created on: 01-06-18 13:35
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- Othello - Act 1
- Scene 2
- Othello
- ‘Tis better as it is
- My parts, my title and my perfect soul Shall manifest me rightly
- Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them
- Cassio
- Your haste-post-haste appearance Even on the instant
- Brabantio
- Down with him, thief!
- O thou foul thief
- Sooty bosom
- Thou hast practised on her with foul charms, Abused her delicate youth with drugs
- For if such actions may have passage free, bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be
- Othello
- Scene 1
- Iago
- I know my price: I am worth no worse a place
- Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damned in a fair wife
- Mere prattle without practice/ Is all his soldiership
- I follow him to serve my turn upon him
- Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago/ In following him, I follow but myself
- Thick-lips
- though he in a fertile climate dwell,/ Plague him with flies
- Thieves, thieves, thieves!
- An old black ram/ Is tupping your white ewe!
- Arise, arise;
- Your/ daughter covered with a Barbary house; you’ll have/ your nephews neigh to you; you’ll have coursers for cousins, and jennets for germans.
- Making the beast with two backs
- Brabantio
- My house is not a grange
- Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters’ mind
- Roderigo
- By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman
- To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor
- Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes In an extravagant and wheeling stranger Of here and everywhere
- Iago
- Scene 3
- Othello
- “D: (To Othello) What in your own part can you say to this?B: Nothing, but this is soO: Most potent, grave, and reverend seigniors, My very noble and approved good masters”
- Rude am I in my speech, And little blest with the soft phase of peace
- Little of this great world can I speak
- I won his daughter
- Send for the lady
- Her father loved me, oft invited me; Still questioned me the story of my life
- Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth scapes… Of being taken by the insolent foe
- with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse
- She gave me for my pains a world of sighs
- If I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him
- She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them
- Beg it not Of please the palate of my appetite
- My life upon her faith
- Desdemona
- divided duty
- duty as my mother showed To you, preferring you before her father
- I may profess Due to the Moor my love
- I saw Othello’s visage in his mind, And to his honours and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate
- Iago
- Ere I would say I would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon
- Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies
- Put money in thy purse
- The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida
- She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice
- If sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her: therefore make money
- ‘twixt’ my sheets He’s done my office
- Mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety
- How? How? Let’s see: After some time, to abuse Othello’s ears That he is too familiar with his wife
- The Moor is of a free and open nature
- be led by th’nose As asses are
- Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world’s light
- Brabantio
- so flood-gate and o’erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows
- “B: My daughter! O my daughter!D: Dead?B: Ay, to me: She is abused, stol’n from me, and corrupted By spells and medicines”
- A maiden never bold; Of spirit so still and quiet
- Look to her, Moor, if though hast eyes to see: She has deceived her father, and may thee
- Duke
- Valiant Othello
- To vouch this is no proof, Without more wider and more overt test
- I think this tale would win my daughter too
- The Turk with as most mighty preparation makes for Cyprus (No rhymes)
- If virtue no delighted beauty lack, your son-in-law is far more fair than black
- Roderigo
- I will incontinently drown myself
- It is silliness to live, when to live is torment
- Othello
- Scene 2
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