Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts,

Dafh him to pieces.

CAS. I deny'd you not.

BRU. You did.

CAS. I did not-he was but a fool

That brought my

heart.

anfwer back.-Brutus hath riv'd my

A friend fhould bear a friend's infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.
BRU. I do not. Still you practise them on me.
CAS. You love me not.

BRU. I do not like your faults.

CAS. A friendly eye could never see such faults. BRU. A flatt'rer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

CAS. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come! Revenge yourselves alone on Caffius,

For Caffius is a-weary of the world;

Hated by one he loves; brav'd by his brother;
Check'd by a bondman; all his faults observ'd;
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote,
To caft into teeth: O, I could weep

my

My fpirit from mine eyes !-There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast-within, a heart
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold!
If that thou need'ft a Roman's, take it forth.
I, that deny'd thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike as thou didst at Cæfar; for I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lov'd'it him better
Than ever thou lov'd'ft Caffius.

BRU. Sheathe your dagger;

Be angry

when you will, it fhall have scope ;

De

4

Do what you will, dishonour shall be humour.

O Caffius, you are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Which much enforced, shows a hafty spark,
And ftraight is cold again.

CAS. Hath Caffius liv'd

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd vexeth him?
BRU. When I fpoke that, I was ill-temper'd too,
CAS. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand.
BRU. And my heart too.

CAS. O Brutus !

BRU. What's the matter?

CAS. Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rafh humour which my mother gave me, Makes me forgetful?

BRU. Yes, Caffius, and from henceforth

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus,

He'll think

your mother chides, and leave

you
fo.

SHAKSPEARE

CHA P. XXVII.

OTHELLO

AND IAGO.

IAGO.

MY

Y noble Lord,

OTH. What doft thou fay, Iago!

IAGO. Did Michael Caffio, when you woo'd my Lady,

Know of your love?

Отн. He did, from first to last; why doft thou afk ?
IAGO. But for a fatisfaction of my thought,

No farther harm.

Oтн. Why of thy thought, Iago?

T 2

IAGO.

IAGO. I did not think he'd been acquainted with it.

Отн. Oh, yes, and went between us very oft.

lAGO. Indeed!

Отн. Indeed ay, indeed. Discern'ft thou aught in that? Is he not honest?

IAGO. Honeft, my Lord?

Отн. Honeft? aye, honest.

IAGO. My Lord, for aught I know,

Отн. What doft thou think?

'IAGO. Think, my Lord!

Oтн. Think, my Lord! Why by Heav'n, thou echo'st

me,

As if there were fome monfter in thy thought,

When Caffio left my wife. What did'st not like?

And when I told thee, he was of my counsel,

In my whole courfe of wooing; thou cry'd'ft, " Indeed!"
And didft contract and purse thy brow together,

As if thou then had shut up in thy brain

Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,

Show me thy thought.

IAGO. My lord, you know I love you.

ОTH. I think thou doft:

And, for I know, thou art full of love and honefty,

And weigh'ft thy words before thou giv'ft them breath,
Therefore these ftops of thine fright me the more :

For fuch things in a false disloyal knave,

Are tricks of cuftom ; but in a man that's juft,
They're cold dilations working from the heart,
That paffion cannot rule.

IAGO. For Michael Caffio,

I dare be fworn, I think, that he is honeft.

OTH. I think fo too.

IAGO. Men fhould be what they seem ;

Or, thofe that be not, would they might feem knaves.
Oгн. Certain ! men fhould be what they feem.
IAGO. Why, then I think Caffio's an honest man.
Отн. Nay, yet there's more in this;

I pray thee speak to me as to thy thinkings.

::

As thou doft 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,

I am not bound to that all flaves are free to ;
Utter my thoughts!-Why, fay, they're vile and false,
As where's that palace, whereinto foul things
Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure,
But fome uncleanly apprehenfions

Keeps leets and law-days, and in feffions fit
With meditations lawful?

OTн. Thou doft confpire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think'ft him wrong'd, and mak'ft his ear
A ftranger to thy thoughts.

IAGO. I do beseech you,

Think I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,
(As, I confefs, it is my nature's plague
To 'Ipy into abufe; and oft my jealoufy
Shapes faults that are not) I intreat you then,
From one that fo imperfectly conjects,

Your wisdom would not build yourself a trouble
Out of my scattered and unsure observance :
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,

Nor for my manhood, honefty, and wisdom,

To let you know my thoughts.

OTH. What doft thou mean?

JAGO. Good name in man or woman, dear my Lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their fouls.

Who fteals my purse, steals 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 euriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Oтн. I'll know thy thoughts

IAGO. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor fhall not, whilft 'tis in my cuflody.

Отн. На!

IAGO. Oh, beware my Lord, of jealoufy:

It is a green-ey'd monfter, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in blifs,
Who certain of his fate, loves not his

wronger.

But oh, what damned minutes tells he o’er,

Who doats, yet doubts; fufpects, yet ftrongly loves!
ОтH. O mifery !

IAGO. Poor and content, is rich, and rich enough
But riches endlefs, is as poor as winter,

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

Good Heaven! the fouls of all my

From jealoufy!

Отн. Why, why is this?

tribe defend

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

With fresh fufpicions ?-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