Othello

"Rude am I in my speech…"

 

"I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this,

Killing myself, to die upon a kiss".

 


"She’s gone. I am abused, and my relief

Must be to loathe her".




"Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,

Whose icy current and compulsive course

Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on".

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