A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iago.

I do beseech you,

Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,
As, I confess, it is my nature's plague

To spy into abuses; and, oft, my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not,-I entreat you then,
From one that so imperfectly conjects,

You'd take no notice; nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance:—
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Oth.

What dost thou mean?

Iago. Good name, in man, and 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 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. By heaven, I'll know thy thought.

Iago. 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 the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on: That cuckold lives in bliss, Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;

F

But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er,

Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! Oth. O misery!

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

To him that ever fears he shall be poor:

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

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

With fresh suspicions? No: to be once in doubt,
Is-once to be resolv'd: Exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous,

To say-my wife is fair, feeds well, loves com

pany,

Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are more virtuous:
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, 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 am 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 am 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 heaven see the pranks

They dare not show their husbands; their best con

science

Is-not to leave undone, bat keep unknown.

Oth. Dost thou say so?

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

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

He thought, 'twas witchcraft:-But I am much to

blame;

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.

Oth.

I am bound to thee 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 are mov'd:

I am to pray you, not to strain my speech

To grosser issues, nor to larger reach,

Than to suspicion.

Oth. I will not.

Iago.

Should you do so, my lord,

My speech should fall into such vile success

As my thoughts aim not at.

friend:

My lord, I see you are mov'd.

Oth.

Cassio's my worthy

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 erring from itself,—

Iago. Ay, there's the point:-As,-to be bold you,

with

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 disproportion, 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 (hapily) repent.

Oth.

Farewel, farewel:

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: Leave me, Iago.
Iago. My lord, I take my leave.

[Going.

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 entreat your

honour

To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
And though it be 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.

[Exit.

Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit, Of human dealings: If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black; And have not those soft parts of conversation That chamberers have: Or, for I am declin'd Into the vale of years;-yet that's not much;— She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief

Must be to loath her. O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

Than keep a corner in the thing I love,

For others' uses. Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones; Prerogativ'd are they less than the base:

'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death;

Even then this forked plague is fated to us,