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Avaunt! Begone! Thou hast set me on the rack

Avaunt! Begone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
I swear 'tis better to be much abused
Than but to know ‘t a little.
How now, my lord?

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know ‘t, and he's not robbed at all.

What sense had I of her stol'n hours of lust?
I saw ‘t not, thought it not; it harmed not me.
I slept the next night well, fed well, was free and merry.
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know ‘t, and he's not robbed at all.
I am sorry to hear this.
I had been happy if the general camp,
Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. O, now, forever
Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
Farewell the plumèd troops and the big wars
That makes ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, th' ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!
And O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
Th' immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!
Is ‘t possible, my lord?
Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore!
Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof,
Or, by the worth of mine eternal soul,
Thou hadst been better have been born a dog
Than answer my waked wrath.
Is ‘t come to this?
Make me to see ‘t, or at the least so prove it
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
To hang a doubt on, or woe upon thy life!
My noble lord—
If thou dost slander her and torture me,
Never pray more. Abandon all remorse;
On horror's head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all Earth amazed;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
Greater than that.
O grace! O heaven forgive me!
Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?
God b' wi' you. Take mine office.—O wretched fool,
That liv'st to make thine honesty a vice!—
O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world:
To be direct and honest is not safe.—
I thank you for this profit, and from hence
I'll love no friend, sith love breeds such offense.
Nay, stay. Thou shouldst be honest.
I should be wise; for honesty's a fool
And loses that it works for.
By the world,
I think my wife be honest and think she is not.
I think that thou art just and think thou art not.
I'll have some proof! Her name, that was as fresh
As Dian's visage, is now begrimed and black
As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,
Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,
I'll not endure it. Would I were satisfied!
I see you are eaten up with passion.
I do repent me that I put it to you.
You would be satisfied?
Would? Nay, and I will.
And may; but how? How satisfied, my lord?
Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on,
Behold her topped?
Death and damnation! O!
It were a tedious difficulty, I think,
To bring them to that prospect. Damn them then
If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster
More than their own! What then? How then?
What shall I say? Where's satisfaction?
It is impossible you should see this,
Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,
As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross
As ignorance made drunk. But yet I say,
If imputation and strong circumstances
Which lead directly to the door of truth
Will give you satisfaction, you might have ‘t.
Give me a living reason she's disloyal.

Act 3
Scene 3
Line 385

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