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As where's that Palace, whereinto foul things Sometimes intrude not? Who has a breast so pure, But fome uncleanly apprehenfions

9 Keep leets and law-days, and in feffions fit With medications lawful?

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

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Iago. I do befeech you,

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

To spy into abufe; and oft my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not; I intreat you then,
From one that fo2 improbably conceits,
Your wifdom would not build yourfelf a trouble
Out of my fcattering and unfure obfervance.
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 and woman, dear my Lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their fouls,

? Keep leets and lacv-days,-] i.e. govern. A metaphor, wretchedly forced and quaint. WARB. Rather vifit than govern, but vifit with authoritative intrusion,

THOUGH I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,] Not to mention that, in this reading, the fentence is abrupt and broken, it is likewife highly abfurd. I befeech you give yourself no uneafinefs from my unfure obfervance, though I am vicious in my guess. For his being an ill gueffer was a reafon why Othello fhould not be

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Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis fomething, no

thing;

'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,
And makes me poor indeed.

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!

3

Lago. Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealousy;
It is a green-ey'd monfter, 3 which doth make
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!
Oth. Oh mifery !

lago. Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough; * But riches finelefs is as poor as winter,

To him that ever fears he fhall be poor.

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Good heaven! the fouls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Oth. Why? why is this?

Think'ft thou, I'd make a life of jealoufy?
To follow still 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 shall turn the business of my foul
To fuch exfuffolate and blown furmises,
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;
7 Where virtue is, thefe are most virtuous.
Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw
The smallest fear, or doubt of her revolt;
For he 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,
A way at once with love, or jealoufy.

Iago. I am glad of this; for now I fhall have reafon

6 To fuch exfuffulate and blown Jurmiles,] This odd and far-fetch'd word was made yet more uncouth in all the editions before Hanmer's, by being printed, exfufficate. The allufion is to a bubble. Do not think, fays the Moor, that I fhall change the noble defigns that now employ my thoughts, to fufpicions which, like bubbles blown into a wide extent, have only an empty fhew without folidity, or that in confequence of fuch empty fears, I will close with thy inference agair ft the virtue of my wife.

7 Where virtue is, thefe ARE MOST virtuous] But how can a virtuous conduct make the indifferent actions of fuch a charafter, virtuous, or most virtu

ous? The old Quarto reads, a little nearer the truth,

Where virtue is, these are more virtuous.

But Shakespear wrote,

Where virtue is, these MAKE more virtuous.

i. e. where virtue is, the civil accomplishments of polite life make that virtue more illuftrious, as coming off victorious from all the temptations which such açcomplishments throw in the way,

WARBURTON.

The old reading will, I think, approve itself to every understanding that has not an intereft in changing it. An action in itfelf indifferent, grows virtuous by its end and application.

Τα

To fhew the love and duty that I bear you
With franker spirit. Therefore, as I am 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 heaven fee the pranks,
They dare not fhew their husbands; their beft con-
science

Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown.
Oth. Doft thou say fo?

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

Oth. And fo fhe did.

Iago. Go to, then;

She, that, fo young, could give out fuch a Seeming To feal her father's eyes up, close as oak

2

Out of felf-bounty be abus'd;] Self-bounty, for inherent generofity. WARBURTON. 9-our country-difpofition In Venice] Here Iago

feems to be a Venetian.

And when the feem'd] This and the following argument of Iago ought to be deeply impreffed on every reader. Deceit and falfehood, whatever conveniences they may for a time promife or produce, are, in the fum of life, obftacles to happiness. Thofe who profit by the cheat, diftruit the deceiver, and the act by which kindness was fought, puts an end to confidence.

The fame objection may be made with a lower degree of Atrength against the imprudent

7

generofity of disproportionate marriages. When the first heat of paffion is over, it is easily fucceeded by fufpicion, that the fame violence of inclination which caufed one irregularity, may ftimulate to another; and those who have shewn, that their paffions are too powerful for their prudence, will, with very flight appearances against them, be cenfured, as not very likely to restrain them by their virtue.

To feal her father's eyes up, clefe as oak-] There is little relation between eyes and oak. I would read,

She feal'd her father's eyes up clofe as owls. As blind as an owl, is a proverb.

He

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

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

Oth. I'm bound to thee for ever.,

Iago. I fee, this hath a little dafh'd your fpirits.
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'dI am to pray you, not to ftrain my fpeech

3 To groffer iffues, nor 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,

As 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 Defdemona's honeft.

lago. Long live fhe fo! and long live you to think fo!

Oth. And yet, how nature erring from itselfIago. 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 smell, in fuch, as will most rank,

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