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Othello's Apology: Quotations from Shakespearian Quotations

Rude am I in speech, And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now some nine moons wasted, they have us'd 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; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself: Yet, by your gracious patience, 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 charg'd withal) I won his daughter with. Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,— That I have pass'd.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days, To the very moment that he bade me tell it. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field; Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach: Of being taken by the insolent foe, And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence, And portance in my travel's history: Wherein of antres vast, and desarts wild, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven It was my hint to speak. Such was my process; And of the cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear, Shakraprarian Dictionary. OTH Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Which ever as she could with haste despatch, She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse: Which I observing, Took once a pliant hour; and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard. But not distinctively. I did consent; And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke, That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, 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 She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd; And I lov'd her, that she did pity them: This only is the witchcraft I have us'd; Here comes the lady, let her witness it.— 0. i. 3

Farewell

O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump. The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner; and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And, O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,— 0. iii. 3

Farewell!-Othello's occupation's gone!

Handkerchief

There's magic in the web of it: A sybil, that had number'd in the world The sun to make two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work: The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk; And it was dy'd in mummy, which the skilful Conserv'd of maidens' hearts.— O. iii. 4.