From jealoufie !

Oth. Why? why is this?

Think'ft thou, I'd make a life of jealoufie?
To follow ftill the changes of the moon

With fresh fufpicions? No; to be once in doubt,
Is once to be refolv'd. Exchange me for a goat,
When I fhall turn the bufinefs of my foul
To fuch exufflicate and blown furmifes,

Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous,
To fay, my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company,
Is free of fpeech, fings, plays, and dances well;
Where virtue is, these are most virtuous.

Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt;
For fhe had eyes, and chofe me. No, Tago,
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 jealousie.

Iago. I'm glad of this; for now I fhall have reafon
To fhew the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit. Therefore, as I'm bound,
Receive it from me. I fpeak not yet of proof.
Look to your wife, obferve her well with Caffio;
Wear your eye, thus; not jealous, nor fecure;
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 fhew their husbands; their best conscience Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.

Oth. Doft thou fay fo?

Iago. She did deceive her father, marrying you, And when the feem'd to shake, and fear your looks, She lov'd them most.

Oth. And fo she did.
Jago. Go to then ;

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

Ee 2

For

For too much loving you.

Oth. I'm bound to you for ever.

Iago. I fee, this hath a little dafh'd your spirits.
Oth. Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago. Truft 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 strain my speech

To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach,

Than to fufpicion.

Oth. I will not.

Iago. Should

you do fo, my lord, (35)

My fpeech would fall into fuch vile Succefs,

Which my thoughts aim not at.. Caffio's my worthy friend.

My lord, I fee, you're mov'd

Oth. No, not much mov'd

I do not think, but Defdemona's honest.

Iago. Long live the fo! and long live you to think fo! Oth. And yet, how nature erring from it felf

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 fpeak of her tho' I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,.
And, haply, fo repent.

(35) Should you do fo, my Lord,

My Speech would fall into fuch vile excess,

Which my thoughts aim not at.] This is Mr. Pope's Reading, and, I am afraid, as erroneous as it is unauthoriz'd. For, fuppofe, Othell were to believe all that Iago told him on Sufpicion, how would Iago's Speech fall into the worfe Excefs thereupon? All the old Copies, that! have feen, read, Success: and this is certainly the Author's Meaning "If you should believe all I have faid, my Speech would fucceed work, "have more vile Confequences in your Refentment against your Wife, " than I had any Aim, or Purpose, to excite."

Othe

Oth. Farewel, farewel;

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.

Oth. Why did I marry?-

This honeft creature, doubtless,

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

[Going.

Iago. My lord, I would, I might entreat your Honour To fcan this thing no farther; leave it to time: Altho' 'tis fit that Caffio have his Place, For, fure, he fills it up with great ability, Yet if you please 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 importunity; Much will be feen in That. In the mean time, Let me be thought too bufie in my fears, (As worthy cause I have to fear, I am ;) And hold her free, I do befeech your Honour. Oth. Fear not my government. Iago. I once more take my leavė.

Manet Othello.

Oth. This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned fpirit,
Of human dealings. If I prove her haggard,
Tho' that her jeffes were my dear heart-ftrings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm black,
And have not thofe foft 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. Oh the curfe of marriage!
That we can call thefe 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 ufe. Yet 'tis the plague of Great ones;
Prerogativ'd are they lefs than the bafe;

Ee 3

3

[Exit.

'Tis

'Tis destiny unfhunnable, like death.

Even then, this forked plague is fated to us,
When we do quicken. Defdemona comes!

Enter Desdemona and Emilia.

If fhe be falfe, oh, then heav'n mocks it self;
I'll not believe't.

Def. How now, my dear Othello?

Your dinner, and the generous Islanders,
By you invited, do attend your prefence.
Oth. I am to blame.

Def. Why do you speak fo faintly?
Are you not well?

Oth. I have a pain upon my forehead here.

Def. Why, that's with watching, 'twill away again; Let me but bind it hard, within this hour

It will be well.

Oth. Your napkin is too little;

[She drops her handkerchief.

Let it alone: come, I'll go in with you.
Def. I am very forry, that you are not well.

Manet Emilia.

Emil, I am glad, I have found this napkin ; This was her first remembrance from the Moor My wayward husband hath a hundred times Woo'd me to fteal it. But fhe fo loves the token, (For he conjur'd her, the fhould ever keep it) That the referves it evermore about her,

[Exeunt,

To kifs and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,

And give't lago; what he'll do with it,

Heav'n knows, not I:

I nothing, but to please his fantafie.

Enter lago,

Iago. How now? what do you here alone?
Emil. Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Lago.

Iago. You have a thing for me? It is a common thing

Emil. Ha?

Iago. To have a foolish wife.

Emil. Oh, is that all? what will you give me now For that fame handkerchief?

Iago. What handkerchief?

Emil. What handkerchief?

Why, That the Moor firft gave to Desdemona;

That which fo often you did bid me steal.

Iago. Haft ftolen it from her?

Emil. No; but fhe let it drop by negligence; And, to th' advantage, I, being here, took't up : Look, here 'tis.

Iago. A good wench, give it me,

Emil, What will you do with't, you have been fo earnest To have me filch it?

Iago. Why, what is that to you?

[Snatching it.

Emil. If't be not for fome purpose of import, Give't me again. Poor lady! fhe'll run mad, When the fhall lack it.

Iago. Be not you known on't:

I have use for it. Go, leave me-
I will in Caffio's lodging lofe this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong

[Exit Emil.

As proofs of holy Writ. This may do fomething.
The Moor already changes with my poifons:
Dang❜rous conceits are in their nature poifons, (36)
Which at the firft are scarce found to diftafte;

But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of fulphur,

-I did fay fo.

(36) Dang'rous Conceits are in their Nature poifons,] I cannot poffibly account for Mr. Pope's Oftentation of Industry upon this Paffage. This Line, fays he, reftor'd from the firft Edition, compleats the Senfe. But, pray, let us obferve the Accuracy of this wonderful Reftorer. The Line, 'tis true, is in the firft Edition; but 'tis likewife in the firft and fecond Impreffions in Folio; 'tis in the Quarto, of 1630; and 'tis in the Editions put out by Mr. Rowe; how then is it reftar'd? Huic mandes, fi quid rete curatum velis.