Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume IX. Tragedy: Humor. 1904. | | | | Poems of Tragedy: V. Italy | | Othello’s Remorse | | William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
| | From “Othello,” Act V. Sc. 2.
BEHOLD, I have a weapon; | |
| A better never did itself sustain | |
| Upon a soldier’s thigh: I have seen the day, | |
| That, with this little arm and this good sword, | |
| I have made my way through more impediments | 5 |
| Than twenty times your stop:—but, O vain boast! | |
| Who can control his fate? ’t is not so now.— | |
| Be not afraid, though you do see me weaponed; | |
| Here is my journey’s end, here is my butt, | |
| And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. | 10 |
| Do you go back dismayed? ’t is a lost fear; | |
| Man but a rush against Othello’s breast, | |
| And he retires:—where should Othello go?— | |
| Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starred wench! | |
| Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt, | 15 |
| This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, | |
| And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl? | |
| Even like thy chastity—O, cursèd slave!— | |
| Whip me, ye devils, | |
| From the possession of this heavenly sight! | 20 |
| Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! | |
| Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!— | |
| O Desdemona! Desdemona! dead? O! O! | | | | |
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