Where virtue is, these make more virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt,
For she had eyes, and chofe me. No, Iago,
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 jealousy,

IAGO. I'm glad of this; for now I shall 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 speak 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,

OTн. Doft thou say fo?

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

ОTH. And fo fhe did.

IAGO. Go to then;

She, that, fo young, could give out such 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 beseech you of your pardon,

For too much loving you.

Отн. I am bound to you for ever.

IAGO. I fee this hath a little dash'd your fpirits.

IAGO. 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—

I am to pray you, not to ftrain my speech
To groffer iffues, not to larger reach,
Than to fufpicion.

OTH. I will not.

IAGO. Should you do fo, my Lord,

My fpeech would fall into fuch vile fuccefs,

Which my thoughts aim not at. Caffio's my worthy friend. My Lord, I fee you're mov'd

Oтн. No, not much mov'd

I do not think but Defdemona's honeft.

IAGO. Long live fhe fo! and long live you to think so! Oтн. And yet, how nature erring from itself

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 speak of her; though I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country-forms,
And, haply, fo repent.

Отн. Farewel, farewel;

If more thou doft perceive, let me know more :
Set on thy wife t' obferve. Leave me, Fago.

JAGO. My Lord, I take my leave.

Отн. Why did I marry ?

This honeft creature, doubtless,

Sees,

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: 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 strain his entertainment With any strong or vehement importunity; Much will be seen in that. In the mean time, Let me be thought too bufy in my fears, (As worthy cause I have to fear I am) And hold her free, I do befeech your Honour. Отн. Fear not my government.

IAGO. I once more take my leave,

SHAKESPEAR.

CHA P. XXVIII.

HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER's MARRIAGE,

OH that this too too folid flesh would melt,

*

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlafting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst felf-flaughter!
How weary, ftale, flat, and unprofitable,

Seem to me all the ufes of this world!

Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to feed; things rank, and grofs in nature,
Poffefs it merely. That it should come to this!

But two months dead! nay, not fo much; not two ;-
So excellent a king, that was, to this,

D d 4

Hyperion

Hyperion to a fatyr: fo loving to my mother,
That he permitted not the winds of heav'n
Vifit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth!
Muft I remember why, fhe would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on; yet, within a month,

Let me not think-Frailty, thy name is Woman!
A little month! or ere thofe fhoes were old,
With which fhe follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears— -Why, fhe, ev'n fhe-
(O Heav'n! a beaft that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer-) married with mine uncle,
My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules. Within a month!-
Ere yet the falt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married--Oh, moft wicked fpeed, to poft
With fuch dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

CHA P.

HAM.

HAMLET

XXIX.

AND

GHOST.

and minifters of grace defend us!

Be thou a fpirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heav'n, or blasts from hell, Be thy intent wicked or charitable,

Thou com'ft in fuch a questionable shape,

That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet,
King, Father, Royal Dane: oh! anfwer me;

SHAKESPEAR.

Let

Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell,
Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in earth,
Have burst their cearments? why the fepulchre,
Wherein we faw thee quietly inurn'd,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To caft thee up again? What may this mean?
That thou, dead corfe, again in compleat steel,
Revifit'ft thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous, and us fools of nature
So horribly to shake our difpofition

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our fouls?
Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
GHOST. Mark me.

HAM. I will.

GHOST. My hour is almost come,

When I to fulphurous and tormenting flames.

Muft render up myself.

HAM. Alas, poor ghoft!

GHOST. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I fhall unfold.

HAM. Speak, I am bound to hear.

GHOST. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear,

HAM. What?

GHOST. I am thy father's fpirit;

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fire :

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature,

Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the fecrets of my prifon-house,

I could a tale unfold, whofe lightest word
Would harrow up thy foul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

Thy