Or fue to you, to do peculiar profit To your own perfon. Nay, when I have fuit, And fearful to be granted. Oth. I will deny thee nothing. Whereon I do befeech thee, grant me this, Def. Shall I deny you? no: farewel, my lord. Oth. Farewel, my Defdemona, I'll come ftrait. Def. Emilia, come; be, as your fancies teach you : Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exeunt, Manent Othello, and Iago. Oth. Excellent Wench! foul, (22) Perdition catch my But I do love thee; and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again. Iago. My noble lord, Oth. What doft thou fay, Iago? Iago. Did Michael Caffio, when you woo'd my lady, Know of your love? Oth. He did, from firft to laft: why doft thou ask? No farther harm. Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago? lago. I did not think, he'd been acquainted with it, (22) Excellent Wretch! Perdition catch my Soul, But I do love thee; &c.] Tho' all the printed Copies concur in this Reading, I think, it is very reasonably to be fufpected. Othello is exclaiming here with Admiration and rapturous Fondness: but Wretch can scarce be admitted to be used, unless in Compaffion or Contempt. I make no question, but the Poet wrote; Excellent Wench! -Perdition catch my Soul, &c. It is to be obferv'd, that, in SHAKESPEARE'S time, Wench, Lass, and Girl were not used in that low and vulgar Acceptation as they are at this time of day; but very frequently with Dignity. Oth. Oth. Oh, yes, and went between us very oft. Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed. Difcern'ft thou aught in that? Is he not honeft ? Iago. Honeft, my lord ? Oth. Honeft? ay, honest. Iago. My lord, for aught I know. Iago. Think, my lord! Oth. Think, my lord! why, by heav'n, thou echo'ft me; As if there were some monster in thy thought, Too hideous to be fhewn. Thou doft mean something : Iago. My lord, you know, I love you. And for I know, thou art full of love and honesty, Are tricks of cuftom; but, in a man that's just, Iago. For Michael Caffio, I dare be fworn, I think, that he is honeft. Jago. Men fhould be what they seem. Or, thofe that be not, 'would they might feem none ! Tago. Why, then, I think, Caffio's an honeft man. I pray thee, fpeak to me as to thy thinkings, As As thou doft ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words. Iago. 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 ; Keep leets and law-days, and in feffions fit With meditations lawful? Oth. Thou doft confpire against thy friend, lago, If thou but think'ft him wrong'd, and mak'ft his ear A ftranger to thy thoughts, Iago. I do befeech you, Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guefs, Your wisdom would not build your felf a trouble Oth. What doft thou mean? Iago. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their fouls. Who fteals my purfe, fteals trash; 'tis fomething, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his; and has been slave to thousands; But he, that filches from me my good name, Robs me of That, which not enriches him, Oth. I'll know thy thoughts Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor fhall not, whilft 'tis in my cuftody. Oth. Ha! Iago. Oh, beware, my lord, of jealoufie; It is a green-ey'd monfter, which doth mock The The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in blifs, Who doats, yet doubts; fufpects, yet ftrongly loves! Jago. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough; But riches endlefs, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he fhall be poor. Good heaven! the fouls of all my tribe defend Oth. Why? why is this? Think'ft thou, I'd make a life of jealoufie? With fresh fufpicions? No; to be once in doubt, To fuch exufflicate and blown furmifes, 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 ; lago. I'm glad of this; for now I shall have reason In Venice they do let heav'n fee the pranks, They dare not fhew their husbands; their best conscience Is not to leav't undone, but keep't.unknown. Oth. Doft thou fay fo? lago. 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 fhe did. She, that, fo young, could give out fuch a Seeming He thought, 'twas witchcraft-but I'm much to blame : For too much loving you. Oth. I'm bound to you for ever. Iago. I fee, this hath a little dash'd your spirits. lago. 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- Than to fufpicion. Oth. I will not. lago. Should you do fo, my lord, My fpeech would fall into fuch vile Success, Which my thoughts aim not at. friend. My lord, I fee, you're mov'd Oth. No, not much mov'd Caffio's my worthy I do not think, but Desdemona's honeft. Iago. Long live fhe fo! and long live you to think fo! Oth. And yet, how nature erring from it self Iago. Ay, there's the point; with you) Not to affect many propofed matches as (to be bold Of her own clime, complexion and degree, Whereto we see in all things Nature tends: Foh! one may smell, in fuch, a will most rank, N And, |