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Where virtue is, these make more virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The fmallest 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.

IAGO. I'm glad of this; for now I fhall have reason
To fhow 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 secure!
I would not have your free and noble nature
Out of felf-bounty be abus'd; look to't.
I know our country-difpofition well;

In Venice they do let Heav'n fee the pranks
They dare not show their husbands.

OTH. Doft thou fay fo?

IAGO. She did deceive her father, marrying you;

And when she feem'd to shake, and fear your looks,
She lov'd them moft.

OTH. And fa fhe did.

IAGO. Go to then;

She, that, fo young, could give out fuch a feeming

To feal her father's 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.

Отн. I am bound to you for ever.

IAGO. I fee this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

OTH, Not a jot, not a jot.

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IAGO. Trust me, I fear it has:

I hope you will confider what is spoke

Comes from my love. But I do fee you're mov'd

I am to pray you, not to ftrain my speech

To groffer iffues, not to larger reach,

Then to fufpicion.

OTH. I will not.

IAGO. Should you do fo, my Lord,

My fpeech would fall into fuch vile fuccefs,
Which my thoughts aim not at.
My Lord, I fee you're mov'd————

Calio's my worthy friend.

OTH. No, not much mov'd--

I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

IAGO. Long live the fo! and long live you to think fo! Oтн. And yet, how nature's erring from itself→→→→→→ IAGO. Ay, there's the point!-as (to be bold with you) Not to affect many propofed matches

Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we fee in all things nature tends:
Foh! one may fmell, in fuch, a will most rank,
Foul difproportions, thoughts unnatural.
But, pardon me, I do not in pofition
Diftinctly 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, fo repent.

Отн. Farewel, farewel;

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If more thou doft perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife t' obferve. Leave me, lago.

IAGO. My Lord, I take my leave.

Oтн. Why did I marry?.

This honeft creature, doubtlefs,

Sees

Sees, and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

IAGO. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honour
To fcan this thing no further; leave it to time:
Altho' 'tis fit that Caffio have his place,
For, fure, he fills it up with great ability;
Yet if you pleafe to hold him off a while,
You fhall by that perceive him and his means;
Note, if your lady ftrain his entertainment
With any ftrong or vehement opportunity;
Much will be feen in that. In the mean time,,
Let me be thought too bufy in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am)
And hold her free, I do beseech your
CTH. Fear not my government.
IAGO. I once more take my leave.

Honour.

СНАР.

SHAKSPEARE..

XXVIII.

HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER's

MARRIAGE.

H that this too too folid flesh would melt,

Thaw, and refolve itfelf into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst felf-flaughter!

How weary, ftale, flat, and unprofitable,

Seem to me all the ufes of this world!

Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature,
Poffefs it merely. That it fhould come to this!
But two months dead! nay, not fo much; not two;-
So excellent a king, that was, to this,
S 5

Hyperion

Hyperion to a fatyr: fo loving to my mother,
That he permitted not the winds of heav'n
Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth!
Muft I remember!why fhe would hang on him,
As if increafe 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 thofe fhoes were old,
With which the followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears-Why, fhe, ev'n fhe-
(O Heav'n! a beaft that wants difcourfe 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 falt of moft unrighteous tears
Had left the fluffing in her galled eyes,
She married Oh, most wicked speed, to poft
With fuch dexterity to incestuous fheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

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

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HAMLET AND GHOST.

HAM. ANGELS and minifters of grace defend us!

Be thou a fpirit of health, or goblin damn'd,

Bring with thee airs from heav'n, or blafts from hell,
Be thy intent wicked or charitable,

Thou com'ft in fuch a questionable shape,

That I will fpeak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, Father, Royal Dane: ch! anfwer me!

Let

Let me not burit in ignorance; but tell,

Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearfed in earth,
Have burst their cearments? why the fepulchre,
Wherein we faw thee quietly inurn'd,

Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To caft thee up again? What may this mean?
That thou, dead corfe, again in complete fteel,
Revifit'ft thus the glimpfes of the moon,
Making night hideous, and us fools of nature
So horribly to fhake our difpofition

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

HAM. I will.

GHOST. My hour is almost come,

When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames

Maft render up myself.

HAM. Alas, poor ghost!

GHOST. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing.

To what I fhall unfold.

HAM. Speak, I am bound to hear.

GHOST. So art thou to revenge when thou fhalt hear.

HAM. What?

GHOST. I am thy father's fpirit;

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

And for the day, confin'd to fast in fire:

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the fecrets of my prifon house,

I could a tale unfold, whofe lightest word

Would harrow up thy foul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like ftars, ftart from their spheres,

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