Auricula meretricula translation scene 34/10/2024 ![]() Follow thou the wars, defeat thy favor with an usurped beard. I could never better stead thee than now. Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies! I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. She loved me for the dangers I had endured, and I loved her because she pitied me for having endured them. She thanked me and told me that if I knew anyone who loved her, all he would have to do to woo her was to tell her my stories. She would always say things like, "That was strange, very strange," or "That was pitiful, so pitiful." She wished she hadn't heard the moving stories, but also wished that God had made her that kind of a man. When I finished my stories, she would sigh. I agreed, and my tales often brought her to tears. When I had some spare time, she asked me to expand on the story of my travels and fill her in on what she had only heard parts of. She did her chores quickly so she could come back and listen voraciously to my stories again. Desdemona was always fascinated by these stories, but household chores would call her away. I told him about the cannibals that eat other humans, called the Anthropophagi, and about strange men whose heads grow beneath their shoulders. I told him about how I was taken prisoner by my enemy and sold into slavery, about how I was ransomed back and how I traveled around through vast caverns and empty deserts, through rough, rocky quarries and hills so high they touch heaven itself. I told him everything, even from when I was a boy, and spoke about disastrous turns of events, moving events on land and on sea, and about times I barely escaped imminent death by a hair's breadth. ![]() Her father loved me and often invited me to his house, where he would ask about the story of my life, about the battles and sieges I've fought in, and the good and bad fortune I've had. She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them. She thanked me And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story And that would woo her. ![]() ![]() She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man. She swore, in faith, ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange, 'Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful. My story being done She gave me for my pains a world of sighs. I did consent, And often did beguile her of her tears When I did speak of some distressful stroke That my youth suffered. But still the house affairs would draw her hence, Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, She’d come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse, which I, observing, Took once a pliant hour and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard But not intentively. These things to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline. Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, hills whose heads touch heaven It was my hint to speak-such was my process- And of the Cannibals that each others eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Grew beneath their shoulders. I ran it through, even from my boyish days, To th' very moment that he bade me tell it, Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth ’scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence And portance in my traveler’s history. Her father loved me, oft invited me, Still questioned me the story of my life From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have passed. ![]()
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