If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his

ear

A stranger to thy thoughts.
Iago. I do beseech you,

Think I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,
(As I confess, it is my nature's plague
To 'spy into abuse; and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not) I intreat you then,
From one that so imperfectly conjects,
Your wisdom would not build yourself a trouble
Out of my scatter'd and unsure observance:
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Oth. What dost thou mean?
Iago. Good name in man or woman

lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their souls.

dear my

Who steals my purse, streals trash; 'tis something, nothing;

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thou

sands:

But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Oth. I'il know thy thoughts

Jago. You cannot, if my heart were in your

hand;

Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.
Oth. Ha!

Iago. O beware, my lord, of jealousy:
It is a green-ey'd monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. The cuckold lives in bliss,
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Who doats, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves!
Oth. O misery!

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

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

Good Heav'n! the souls of all my trihe defend

From jealousy!

Oth. Why, why is this?

Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy?
To follow still the changes of the moon

With fresh suspicions?'Tis not to make me jealous,

To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
Where virtue is, these make nigre virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt,
For she had eyes, and chose nie. No, Iago,
I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;
And on the proof, there is no more but this,
Away at once with love or jealousy.

Iago. I'm, glad of this; for now I shall have

reason

To shew the love and duty that I hear you
With franker spirit. Therefore, as I'm bound,
Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife, observe her well with Cassio;
Wear your eye thus; not jealous nor secure!
I would not have your free and noble nature
Out of self bounty be abus'd; look to't.
I know our country disposition well:
In Venice they do let heav'n see the pranks
They dare not shew their husbands.

Oth. Dost thou say so?

Iago. She did deceive her father, marrying you; And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks, She lov'd them most.

Oth. And so she did.

Iago. Go to then

She that so young, could give out such a seeming To seal her father's eyes up, close as oak

He thought 'twas witchcraft-But I'm much to blame;

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon,

For too much loving you.

Oth. I am bound to you for ever.

Iago. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

Oth. Not a jot, not a jot.
Iago. Trust me, I fear it has:

I hope you will consider what is spoke
Comes from my love. But I do see you're mov'd-
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To grosser issues, not to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.

Oth. I will not.

Iago. Should you do so, my Lord,

My speech would fall into such vile success, Which my thoughts aim not at. Cassio's my worthy

friend.

My lord, I see you're mov'd

Oth. No, not much mov'd

I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Iago. Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Oth. And yet, how nature's erring from itself Iago. Ay, there's the point!-as (to be bold with you)

Not to affect many proposed matches

Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we see in all things Nature tends :
Foh! one may smell, in such, a will most rank,
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.
But, pardon me, I do not in position
Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And, haply, so repent.

Oth. Farewel, farewel;

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more : Set on thy wife t' observe. Leave me, Iago.

Iago. My lord, I take my

Oth. Why did I marry

?

leave.

This honest creature, doubtless

9

Sees, and knows more, much more than he un

folds.

Iago. My lord, I would I might intreat your

Honour

To scan this thing no further; leave it to time;

Altho' 'tis fit that Cassio have his place,
(For sure he fills it up with great ability;)
Yet if you please to hold him off a while,
You shall by that perceive him and his means:
Note, if your lady strain his entertainment
With any strong or vehement importunity :
Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,
Let me be thought too busy in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am)

And hold her free, I do beseech your Honour.
Oth. Fear not my government.
Iago. I once more take my leave.

SHAKESPEARE.

CHAP. X X V III.

Hamlet's Soliloquy on his Mother's marriage.

H that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew;

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't; oh fie ! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in na

ture,

Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead!
two: A

So excellent a king,

nay, not so much; not

that was to this,

Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother,
That he permitted not the winds of heav'n
Visit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth!
Must I remember!-

him

Why she would hang on

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: yet within a month

Let me not think-Frailty, thy name is Woman! A little month! or ere those shoes were old

With which she followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears-Why, she, even she-
(O Heav'n! a beast that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer-) married with mine
uncle,

My father's brother; but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules. Within a month!
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married-O most wicked speed to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

SHAKESPEARE.

Hamlet and Ghost.

Ham. ANGELS and ministers of grace defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heav'n, or blasts from hell,

Be thy intent wicked or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape,
That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, Father, Royal Dane : Oh! answer me;
Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell,
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in earth,
Have burst their cearments? why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,

may

?

Hath op'd his pond'rous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again? what
this mean
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon '
Making night hideous, and us fools of nature
So horribly to shake our disposition

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
Ghost. Mark me.

Ham. I will.