Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Gra. Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
Oth. Oth.
Oth. Looke in vpon me then, and speake with me,
Oth. Or naked as I am I will assault thee.
Gra. Gra.
Gra. What is the matter?
Othel. Othel.
Othel. Behold, I haue a weapon:
Othel. A better neuer did it selfe sustaine
Othel. Vpon a Soldiers Thigh. I haue seene the day,
Othel. That with this little Arme, and this good Sword,
Othel. I haue made my way through more impediments
Othel. Then twenty times your stop. But (oh vaine boast)
Othel. Who can controll his Fate? 'Tis not so now.
Othel. Be not affraid, though you do see me weapon'd:
Othel. Heere is my iournies end, heere is my butt
Othel. And verie Sea‑marke of my vtmost Saile.
Othel. Do you go backe dismaid? 'Tis a lost feare:
Othel. Man but a Rush against Othello's brest,
Othel. And he retires. Where should Othello go?