Othello, Act 2, Scene 1 —
182 O my fair warrior!
182 My dear Othello!
183 It gives me wonder great as my content
184 To see you here before me. O my soul’s joy!
185 If after every tempest come such calms,
186 May the winds blow till they have waken’d death!
187 And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas
188 Olympus-high and duck again as low
189 As hell’s from heaven! If it were now to die,
190 ‘Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
191 My soul hath her content so absolute
192 That not another comfort like to this
193 Succeeds in unknown fate.
193 The heavens forbid
194 But that our loves and comforts should increase,
195 Even as our days do grow!
195 Amen to that, sweet powers!
196 I cannot speak enough of this content;
197 It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
198 And this, and this, the greatest discords be
199 That e’er our hearts shall make!