Jago. My noble lord. Oth. What doft thou fay, Jago? Jago. Did Michael Caffio, when you woo'd my lady, Oth. He did from first to laft; why doft thou ask? No further harm. Oth. Why of thy thought, Jago? Jago. I did not think he'd been acquainted with it. Jago. Indeed! Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed. Difcern'st thou ought of that? Is he not honeft? Jago. Honeft, my lord? Oth. Honeft? ay, honest. Jago. My lord, for ought I know. Oth. What doft thou think? Jago. Think, my lord!. Oth. Think, my lord! why by heav'n, thou eccho'ft me; As if there were fome monster in thy thought Too hideous to be shewn. I heard thee fay but now, When Caffio left my wife. 4 Thou dost mean something: thou lik'dst not that, What did❜ft not like? And when I told thee, he was of my counsel, In my whole course of wooing; thou cry'dft, indeed? As if thou then hadft fhut up in thy brain Some horrible conceit: if thou doft love me Shew me thy thought. Jago. My lord, you know I love you. Oth. I think thou doft: And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath, V O L. VI. Xxx Therefore Therefore these ftops of thine fright me the more: Jago. For Michael Caffio, I dare be fworn, I think, that he is honest. Jago. Men fhould be what they feem. Or those that be not, would they might feem none. C I pray thee speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou doft ruminate, and give thy worft of thoughts, Fago. Good, my lord, pardon me. Tho' I am bound to every act of duty, I am not bound to that, all flaves are free to; Utter my thoughts! --- Why fay they're vile and false? Keep leets and law-days, and in feffions fit Oth. Thou doft confpire against thy friend, Jago, Jago. I do beseech you, Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, you then From cold dilations. = my d I am not bound From one that so imperfectly conceits, Your wisdom would not build your felf a trouble It were not for your quiet, nor your good, Oth. What doft thou mean? Fago. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their fouls. Who steals my purse steals trash, 'tis fomething, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flave to thousands; • But he that filches from me my good name, 'Robs me of that, which not enriches him, • And makes me poor indeed. Oth. I'll know thy thoughts Fago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. Oth. Ha! Fago. Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousie, Who dotes, yet doubts; fufpects, yet strongly loves! Fago. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough; To him that ever fears he shall be poor. Good heaven! the fouls of all my tribe defend Oth. Why? why is this? Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousie? e his. XXX 2 With With fresh fufpicions? No; to be once in doubt, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous, Nor from mine own weak merits, will I draw The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt, For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Jago, And on the proof, there is no more but this, Jago. I'm glad of this; for now I fhall have reafon With franker fpirit. Receive it from me. Therefore, as I'm bound, I speak not yet of proof. Look to your wife, observe her well with Caffio, I know our country difpofition well; In Venice they do let heav'n fee the pranks They dare not fhew their husbands; their best conscience. Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. Oth. Doft thou fay fo? Jago. 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 fo fhe did. Jago. Go to then; She that fo young could give out fuch a feeming Το To feal her father's eyes up, close as oak He thought 'twas witchcraft---- but I'm much to blame :: For too much loving you. Oth. I'm bound to you for ever. Jago. I fee this hath a little dash'd your spirits.. Jago. 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 ---- To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach, Oth. I will not. Jago. Should you do fo, my lord, i. My speech would fall into such vile fuccefs, ניין Which my thoughts aim not at. Caffio's my worthy friend. Oth. No, not much moy'd --- I do not think but Desdemona's honeft. Jago. Long live fhe fo; and long live you to think so. Fago. Ay, there's the point; ---as (to Of her own clime, complexion and degree, |