Pages

Friday, August 19, 2011

Moor or less

Love forbade me “if,” that friend I had. And her
story. Teach me “should” and I’ll tell him how to
speak it. Would I, her? This heat’s woozy upon
me. The danger’s passed. For the love I had,
and she hers, there’s the pity. Do I love?
I used to. Missed witchcraft is all I have.


Oh, Othello. You couldn't trust your heart, but you could Iago's words, and now where are you? The Bard knows...
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov’d her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this heat I spake.
She lov’d me for the dangers I had pass’d,
And I lov’d her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have us’d.
[Othello: I.iii.179-84]

2 comments:

Theiere said...

Desdemona:
All's one. Good faith,how foolish are our minds!(yours ie)
If I do die before thee,prithee shroud me
In one of those same sheets that
reflect sun strewn pattern from thrown light on thine own precious flawed teapot

Emilia said...

Rather than a teapot
'Exchange me for a goat
when I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmise
Matching thy inference.'

Othello line 180
PS
'exsufflicate'..now there's a word
a Francesco can find a use for!