OTH. What dost thou think? IAGO. Think, my Lord! OTH. Think, my Lord! Why, by Heav'n, thou echo st me, As if there were some monster in thy thought, Too hideous to be shown. thing; I heard thee say but now, Thou dost mean some "thou lik'st not that," What did'st not like? And when I told thee, he was of my counsel In my whole course of wooing; thou cry'dst, "in -deed!" And didst contract and purse thy brows together, Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, IAGO. My lord, you know I love you. OTH. I think thou dost : And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty, Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just, IAGO. For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworn, I think, that he is honest. LAGO. Men should be what they seem; Or, those that be not, would they might seem knaves OTH Certain ! men should be what they seem. IAGO Why, then I think Cassio's an honest man. Oтн Nay, yet there's more in this; I pray thee speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words. IAGO. Good my lord, pardon me. Though I am bound to every act of duty, false As As where's that palace, whereinto foul things Sometimes intrude not Who has a breast so pure, But some uncleanly apprehensions Keep leets and law days, and in session sit With meditation lawful? OTH. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, 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, Your wisdom would not build yourself a trouble OTH. What dost thou mean ? LAGO. Good name in man or woman, dear my 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 fiches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed CTH I'll know thy thoughts.- your hand IAGO. O, heware, my Lord, of jealousy; It is a green ey'a monster, which doth make The meat it feeds on That cuckold lives in bliss, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; But, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er, Who coats, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! Oтн. O misery! JAGO, A TAGO. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough; But r ch's endless is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor. God Heaven! the souls of all my tribe defend OTн Why? why is this? Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy? With fresh suspicions?'Tis not to make me jealous Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw IAGO. I'm glad of this; for now I shall have reason I know our country-disposition well; 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. ОTH. 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. Orн. I am bound to you for ever. IAGO. I see this hath a little dash'd your spirits. 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- OTH I will not IAGO. Should you do so, my Lord, My speech would fall into such vile success, thy friend. My Lord. I see you're mov'd Он. No, not much mov'd Cassio's my wQI.. I do not think bat Desdemona's honest. IAGO. Long live she so! and long live you to think so? Orн. And yet, how Nature's erring from itself. LAGO. Ay, there's the point ?—as (to be bold with you,) Not to affect many proposed matches Of her own clime, complexion, and degree; OтH. Farewell, farewell; If more thou dost perceive, let me know more : Leave me, Iago.. IAGO. My Lord, I take my leave. CTн. Why did I marry? This honest creature, doubtless, Sees and knows more, much more than he unfolds, IAGO. My Lord, I would I might entreat your honour To scan this thing no further; leave it to time: Although Although 'tis fit that Cassio have his place, HAMLET's SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER'S MARRIAGE. OH that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unwende garden, That grows to seed, things rank, and gross in nature, Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, By what it fed on; yet, within a nonthrs (O Heav'n |