1. Oh, ay, as fummer-flies are in the fhambles,
That quicken ev'n with blowing. Oh thou weed !
Who art fo lovely fair, and fmell'it so sweet,
That the fenfe akes at thee.-

Would thou had'st ne'er been born!

2. Alas! what ignorant fin have I committed ? 1. Was this fair paper, this moft goodly book, Made to write whore upon? What, what committed? Committed? Oh, thou publick commoner! 1 fhould make very forges of my cheeks,

That would to cinders burn up modefty,

Did I but fpeak thy deeds. What, what committed?
Heav'n ftops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kiffes all it meets,
Is hufh'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it. What committed ?
Impudent ftrumpet!

Shakespear's Othello.

1. Oh, beware, my lord, of jealoufy;
It is a green-ey'd monfter, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on! That cuckold lives in blifs,
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, Oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er,

Who doats, yet doubts; fufpects, yet strongly loves!
2. Oh misery !

I. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough;
But riches endless, is as poor as winter,

To him that ever fears he fhall be poor.

Good heav'n! the fouls of all my tribe defend
From jealoufy!

2. Why? Why is this?

Think'ft thou, I'd make a life of jealousy?
To follow ftill the changes of the moon

With fresh fufpicions? No; to be once in doubt,
Is once to be refolv'd exchange me for a goat,
When I fhall turn the bus'nefs of my foul

To fuch exufflicate and blown furmifes,

Matching thy inf'rence. 'Tis not to make me jealous

To fay, my wife is fair; feeds-well; loves company;
Is free of speech; fings, plays, and dances well;
Where virtue is, thefe are moft virtuous.

Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt ;
For fhe had eyes, and chofe me. No, Iago,
I'll fee before I doubt; when I doubt, prove:
And, on the proof, there is no more but this,
Away at once with love, or jealousy.

1. I am glad of this; for now I fhall have reafon
To fhew the love and duty that I bear you
With franker fpirit. Therefore, as I'm bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife, obferve her well with Caffio;
Wear your eye, thus; not jealous, nor fecure :
I would not have your free and noble nature
Out of felf-bounty be abus'd; look to't.
I know our country's difpofition well;

In Venice, they do let heav'n fee thofe pranks,

They dare not fhew their husbands; their best conscience

Is not to leave't undone; but keep't unknown.

Shakespear's Othello, 1. Avaunt! be gone! Thou'ft fet me on the rack: I swear, 'tis better to be much abus'd,

Than but to know a little.

2. How, my lord?

. 1.

What fenfe had I of her ftol'n hours of luft?
I faw't not; thought it not, it harm'd not me;
I flept the next night well; was free, and merry;
I found not Caffio's kiffes on her lips:

He, that is robb'd, not wanting what is ftol'n;
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
2. I'm forry to hear this.

1. I had been happy, if the gen'ral camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known. Oh now, for ever
Farewel the tranquil mind! farewel content!

Farewel

Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
That make ambition virtue! Oh, farewel!

Farewel the neighing steed, and the fhrill trump;
The fpirit-ftirring drum; th' ear-piercing fife;
The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumftance of glorious war !
And, Oh, you mortal engines, whose rude throats
Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewel! Othello's occupation's gone!

2. Is't poffible, my lord?

1. Villain, be fure, thou prove my love a whore;
Be fure of it: Give me the ocular proof;
Or by the worth of mine eternal foul,

Thou had it better have been born a dog,
Than anfwer my wak'd wrath.

2. Is't come to this?

1. Make me to fee't; or, at the leaft, fo prove it,
That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,
To hang a doubt on: Or, wo, upon thy life!
2. My noble lord

1. If thou doft flander her, and torture me,
Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
On horrors head, horrors accumulate;

Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd
For nothing can't thou to damnation add,
Greater than that.

Wretched and foolish jealousy;

How cam'ft thou thus to enter me?

I ne'er was of thy kind,

Nor have I yet the narrow mind

To vent that poor defire,

Shakespear's Othello.

That others should not warm them at my fire:

I wish the fun should shine

On all mens fruits and flow'rs, as well as mine,

But under the disguise of love,

Thou fay't, thou only cam'ft to prove

What my affections were :

Think'ft thou that love is help'd by fear?
Go, get thee quickly forth

Love's fickness, and his noted want of worth ;
Seek doubting men to please :

I ne'er will owe my health to a disease.

Johnfon's Underwoods.

O jealoufy! Daughter of envy and of love,
Moft wayward iffue of a gentle fire;
Fofter'd with fears, thy father's joys t'improve:
Mirth-marring monfter, born a fubtle liar;
Hateful unto thy felf, flying thine own defire;
Feeding upon fufpect, that doth renew thee;
Happy were lovers, if they never knew thee.
Thou haft a thousand gates thou enter'st by,
Condemning trembling paffions to our heart :
Hundred-ey'd Argus, ever waking spy,

Pale hagg, infernal fury, pleafure's smart ;
Envious obferver, prying in ev'ry part:
Sufpicious, fearful, gazing ftill about thee;
O would to God that love could be without thee.
Daniel's Rofamond.
Unneceffary jealoufies, make more whores,
Than all baits elfe laid to entrap our frailties.

Beaumont and Fletcher's Little French Lawyer.

The devil gives this jealousy to man,
As nature doth a tail unto a lion;

Which thinks in heat to beat away the flies,.
When he doth most enrage himself with it.

Cupid's Whirligig.
I would not wrong him for all the fea's drown'd
Riches: For, if my heat of blood should do it,
As he fuppofeth it doth, ev'n that blocd
Would like a traitor write my faults with blushing
Red upon my cheeks: But because I, as
All women and courtiers do, love good cloaths,
Which his eyes wear; yet he upbraids me, fwearing

'Tis to please the multitude; and that I
Spread gay rags about me, like a net, to
Catch the hearts of ftrangers: If I go poor,
Then he fwears I am beastly, with a loath'd
Sluttifhnefs: If I be fad, then I grieve
He is fo near If merry, and with a
Modeft wantonifing kifs, embrace his

Love, then are my twiftings more dang'rous than
A fnake's; my luft more infatiate than was
Meffalina's.

Yet this from jealoufy doth always grow,

What most they feek, they loath'ft of all would know.

I pity all the fortunes of

In my own unhappiness;

Cupid's Whirligig.

poor women
when we've giv'n

All that we have to men, what's our requital?
An ill-fac'd jealousy, that resembles much
The mistrustfulness of an infatiate thief;

That scarce believes he has all, though he has ftripp'd
The true man naked, and left nothing on him
But the hard cord that binds him: So are we
First robb'd, and then left bound by jealousy.

Middleton's Mayor of Quinborough.

It feems you are jealous; I'll fhew you the
Error of it, by a familiar example :
I've feen a pair of fpectacles fashion'd
With fuch perspective art, that lay down but
One twelve-pence at th' board, 'twill appear as
If there were twenty; now fhould you wear a
Pair of these spectacles, and fee your

wife Tying her fhoe, you'd imagine twenty

Hands were taking up of your wive's cloaths; and
This would put you into a horrible
Caufelefs fury.

Webster's White Devil.

They that have the yellow jaundice, think
All objects they look on to be yellow:
Jealoufy is worse, her fits prefent a man,

E 4

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