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Had it pleased heaven To try me with affliction

Othello
Had it pleased heaven
To try me with affliction, had they rained
All kind of sores and shames on my bare head,
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips,
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience.

Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write —whore upon? What committed?

But alas, to make me
A  fixèd figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at—
Yet could I bear that too, well, very well.
But there where I have garnered up my heart,
Where either I must live or bear no life,
The fountain from the which my current runs
Or else dries up—to be discarded thence,
Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads
To knot and gender in—turn thy complexion there,
Patience, thou young and rose-lipped cherubin,
Ay, there look grim as hell.
Desdemona
I hope my noble lord esteems me honest.
Othello
O, ay, as summer flies are in the shambles,
That quicken even with blowing! O thou weed,
Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet
That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst
ne'er been born!
Desdemona
Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?
Othello
Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,
Made to write —whore upon? What committed?
Committed? O thou public commoner,
I should make very forges of my cheeks
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed?
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind that kisses all it meets
Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth
And will not hear ‘t. What committed?
Impudent strumpet!
Desdemona
By heaven, you do me wrong!
Othello
Are not you a strumpet?
Desdemona
No, as I am a Christian!
If to preserve this vessel for my lord
From any other foul unlawful touch
Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
Othello
What, not a whore?
Desdemona
No, as I shall be saved.
Othello
Is ‘t possible?
Desdemona
O, heaven forgive us!
Othello
I cry you mercy, then.
I took you for that cunning whore of Venice
That married with Othello.—You, mistress,
Enter Emilia.
That have the office opposite to Saint Peter
And keeps the gate of hell—you, you, ay, you!
We have done our course. There's money for your pains.
He gives her money.
I pray you turn the key and keep our counsel.
He exits

Source:
Act 4
Scene 2
Line 57

Source Type:

Spoken by:
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Themes:
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