Buckramo. I'm hurt—but not to death:
Yet past all surgery—alas! I've lost
The dear companion of my early youth;
Life's now not worth a quid—O, woe is me!
T'have seen what I have seen, seeing what I see!
Ia. What are you hurt, lieutenant?
Cass. Past all surgery.
Othello.
------ O woe is me!
T' have seen what I have seen, seeing what I see!