Wednesday, July 16, 2008

assignment 10

OTHELLO.
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
It is the cause.--Yet I'll not shed her blood;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.

[Takes off his sword.]

Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me:--but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd thy rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again,
It must needs wither:--I'll smell it on the tree.--

othello
She is cause of my pain. Then I can't hurt her. I don't want to ruin her beautiful skin like snow. Takes his sword
I must kill her before she goes on with the other guys I must dispose of her and take her life away.If I would stop her from controlling me, I can be happy again, and should feel sorry that I shall kill myself. She is naturally evil.If I regret I won't know how to bring her back after she's dead.

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