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OTH. What doft thou mean?

Jago. Good name in man or woman, my dear Lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands :-
But, he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that hich not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Oth. I'll know thy thoughts.-
Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your

hand; Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Oth, Ha!

IAGO. Oh, beware; my Lord, of jealousy;
It is a green-ey'd mouster, 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!

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 tribe defend
Frons 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 fufpicions ?~'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 more virtuous.
Nor froin mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt,
For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Jago,
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 show the love and duty that I bear 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 Caffio;
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 now 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 moit:

OTH. And so she did.

Jago. Go to then;
She that, so young,.could give out such a seeming
To seal her father's.

5 eyes up, close as oak
He thought 'twas witchcraft-But I'm much to blame:
I humbly do befeech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.

Oth. I am bound to you for ever.
Iago. I fee this hath a little dalhłd your spirits.
OTH. Not a jot, not a jot.

lago. 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-
Iam to pray you, not to strain my speech
To groffer issues, not to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.

OTH. I will not.
Lago. Should you do so, my Lord,

My speech would fall into fuch 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 honeft.

lago. Long live she fo! and long live you to think fo! Orh. 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 fee in all things nature tends :
Foh! one may smell in such, a will moft rank,
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.
But pardon me, I do not in pofition
Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country formsy
And, haply, fo repent.

OTH. Farewel, farewel;
If more thou doft perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife t'observe. Leave me, lago.

lago. My Lord, I take my leave.

OTH. Why did I marry ?-
This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

Iago. My Lord, I would I might intreat your honour
To scan this thing no further ; leave it to time :
Altho''tis fit that Caffio have his place,
For, sure, he fills it up with great ability;
Yet if you please to hold him off awhile,
You shall by. that perceive him and his means;
Note, if your lady Itraina his entertainment
With any strong or veheinent 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.

Orh. Fear not my government.
Jago. I once more take my leave. SHAKSPEARE.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER's

MARRIAGE.

Oh that this too, too folid fesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon, 'gainst self slaughter !
How weary, ftale, flat, and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to feed ; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead! nay, not so much; not two :
So excellent a king, 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 rou ly. Heav'n and earth!
Must I remember! - Why she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; yet within a month,
Let me not thinkFrailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! or ere those shoes were old,
With which the followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears. Why, she, ev'n The
(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!

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Ere yet the falt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married Oh, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous theets !
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

SHAKSPEARE,

CHAPTER XXIX.

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’ft 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, hears'd in earth,
Have burft their cearments? Why the fepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn’d,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To'cast thee up again? What may 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 difpofition
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls ?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?

Ghost. Mark me.
HAM. I will.
Ghost. My ho is

most come,
When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.

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