Othello Graphic Novel

Othello Graphic Novel

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  • Act 4: Scene 2
  • Was this fair paper , this most goodly book, Made to write "whore" upon? What committed? Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;Is hushed within the hollow mine of earth And will not hear't. What committed? Impudent strumpet!
  • By heaven , you do me wrong! If to preserve this vessel for my lord From any other foul unlawful touch Be not to be a strumpet, I am none.
  • Act 4: Scene 2
  • Alas, Iago, What shall I do to win my lord again? Good friend, go to him. For by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him.
  • You are a fool. Go to! I pray you be content. 'Tis but his humor. The business of the state does him offense And he does chide with you.
  • Act 4: Scene 2
  • Cassio knows not yet of his honorable fortune. If you will watch his going thence, you may take him at your pleasure. I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me. I will show you such a necessity in his death that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. It is now high supper time, anfd the night goes waste. About it!
  • I will hear further reason for this.
  • I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.
  • Act 4: Scene 3
  • My mother had a maid call Barbary. She was in love, and he she loved proved mad And did forsake her. She had a song of willow, And old thing 'twas, but it expressed her fortune, And she died singing it. That song tonight Will not go from my mind.
  • Act 5: Scene 1
  • That thrust has been mine enemy indeed But that coat is better than thou know'st. I will make proof of thine.
  • Act 5: Scene 1
  • O murd'rous slave! O villian!
  • O damned Iago! O inhuman dog!
  • The poor soul sat by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green window. Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow. The fresh streams ran by her and murmured her moans, Sing willow, willow, willo; Her salt tears fell from her, and softened the stones- SIng willow, willow, willow.
  • I know his gait. 'Tis he!-William, thou diest! O, I am slain!
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