Monologue

Othello Monologue

From Othello by William Shakespeare

male · anguished · 1:13 min

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Had it pleas’d heaven To try me with affliction, had they rain’d All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head, Steep’d me in poverty to the very lips, Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes, I should have found in some place of my soul A drop of patience. But, alas, to make me A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at. Yet could I bear that too, well, very well: But there, where I have garner’d up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up, to be discarded thence, Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads To knot and gender in!—turn thy complexion there, Patience, thou young and rose-lipp’d cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell!

About this piece

Othello expresses his profound sense of loss and despair as he grapples with the betrayal and scorn he faces, reflecting on the depths of his suffering and the fragility of his identity.

30s · despair · isolation · betrayal · identity

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