Othello - Act 4
- Created by: Nathalieb
- Created on: 01-06-18 15:04
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- Othello - Act 4
- Bianca
- Let the devil and his dam haunt you!
- Some minx’s token
- Lodovico
- the nature Whom passion could not shake
- Emilia
- Never, my lord…Never…Never my lord
- Hath she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, and her friends, To be called whore?
- The Moor’s abused by some most villainous knave, Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow
- Let husbands know Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have
- The world’s a huge thing: it is a great prize for a small vice
- Desdemona
- I have not deserved this
- Your wife, my lord; your true and loyal wife
- “D: Who is thy lord?E: He that is yours, sweet ladyD: I have none”
- “D: To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?O: Ah, Desdemon, away, away, away!D: Alas the heavy day! Why do you weep? Am I the motive of these tears, my lord? If haply you my father do suspect An instrument of this your calling back Lay not your blame on me”
- his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love
- If I do die before thee, prithee shroud me In one of those same sheets
- Sing willow, willow, willow
- Mine eyes do itch; does that bode weeping?
- Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world
- I will not stay to offend you
- Othello
- So, so, so, so; they laugh that win
- How shall I murder him, Iago?
- I Will chop her into messes – cuckold me!
- O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear
- “O: A fine woman, a fair woman, a sweet woman!I: May, you must forget thatO: Ay, let her rot, and perish”
- my heart is turned to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand
- Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile
- Turn thy complexion there, Patient, thou young and rose-lipped cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell!
- As summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing.
- I took you for that cunning whore of Venice That married with Othello
- Iago
- “I: But if I give my wife a handkerchief-O: What then?”
- “I: Faith, that he did – I know not what he didO: What? What?I: Lie –O: With her?I: With her, on her; what you willO: Lie with her! Lie on her! We say ‘lie on her’, when they belie her. Lie with her: zounds, that’s fulsome! Handkerchief – confessions – handkerchief!”
- Work on, My medicine, work!
- Breaks out to savage madness
- Ply Desdemona well
- Strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated
- Do not weep, do not weep
- You are a fool
- Bianca
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