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Wear your eye thus; not jealous, nor secure!
I would not have your free and noble nature
Out of self-bounty be abus'd; look to't.
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice they do ler Heav'n see the pranks
They dare not show their husbands.
Oth. Doft thou say so?
Iago. She did deceive her father, marrying you; And when she seem'd to shake, and fear your looks, She lov'd them most.
Orh. And so she did.
IAGO. Go to then ;
Ske that, so young, could give out fuch a seeming
To seal her father's eyes up, close as oak
He thought 'twas witchcraft – But I'm much to blame:..
I humbly do besech you of your pardon,
For too much loving you.
Orh. I am bound to you for ever.
IAGO. I see this hath a little dalh'd your fpirits.
OTH. Not a jot; not a jot.
Iago. Trust me, I fear it has:
I hope you will consider what is spoke
love. But I do fee you're mov'da
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To groffer issues, nor to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.
OTH. I will not.
IAGO. Should you do so, my Lord,
My speech would fall into such vile success,
Which my thoughts aim not at. Catrio's my worthy friend.
My Lord, I fee you're mov'u-
Orh. No, not much mor'd
I do not think De demona's honest.
Iago. Long live th si! and long live you to think fo!
OTH, And yet, how Nature's erring from itself-
IAGO. Ay, there's the point !-as (to be bold with yon)
Not to affect many proposed matches
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,
Whereto we fee in all things Nature tends :
Foh! one may smell, in such, a will most rank,
Foul disproportions, thoughts unnatural.
But, pardon me, I do not in position
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, so repent.
OTH. Farewell, farewell ;
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more :
Set on thy wife t'observe. Leave me, Iago.
IAGO: My Lord, I take my leave.
OTH. Why did I marry? -
This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees, and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.
IAGO. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honout
To scan this thing no further ; leave it to time :
Although 'tis fit that Caffio have his place,
For, sure, he hills it up with great ability;
Yet if you please to hold him off a while,
You shall hy 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 busy in my fears,
(As worthy cause I have to fear I am,)
And hold her free, I do beseech your
OTH. Fear not my government,
IAGO. , I once more take my leave.
CHAP. XXVIII. HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY ON HIS MOTHER'S
MARRIAGE. Oh that this too, too folid Aeth would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! How weary, ftale, flat, and onprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world ! Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to feed; things rank, and gross in nature, Potsess 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, Hyperion to a fatyr: so loving to my mother, That he permitted not the winds of Heav'n Vilit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth! Must I remember! Why, she would hang on him, As if increafe of appetite had grown By what it fed on; yet, within a month, Let me not think Frailey, thy name is Woman! A little month or ere those shoes were old, With which she followed my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears ---- -Why, the, ev’n the (O Heav'n! a beast, 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 0, most wicked speed, to poft With fuch dexterity to investuous theets ! It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
HAMLET AND GHOST.
Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us !
Be thou a spirit 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! answer me!
Let me not burft in ignorance; bot tell,
Why thy canoniz'd hones, hearsed in earth,
Have barst their cerements ! why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw 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 complete steel,
Revifit't thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hidious, and us foots 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 almoft come,
When I to fulph'rous and tormenting flames
Moft render up myself.
HAM. Alas! poor ghoft!
Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy ferious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
HAM. · Speak, I am bound to hear.
Ghost. So art thou to revenge when thou shalt hear!
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 ip my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotty and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood; lift, lift, oh list!
If thou did't ever thy dear father love.
Ham. O Heay'n !
Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnat'ral murder!.
Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this moft foul, ftrange, and unnatural,
Ham. Hafte me to know it, that I, with wings as swift:
As meditation, or the thoughts of love,
May fly to my revenge!
Ghost. I find thee apt ;
And duller should't chou be, than the fat weed
That roots itself in ease on Lethe's wharf,
Would'st thou not ftir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear;
'Tis giv'n out, that, sleeping in my orchard,
A serpent ftung me. So the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
The ferpent that did fting thy father's life
Now wears his crown.
HAM, O my prophetic soul! my uncle?
Ghost. Ay, that incetuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with trait'rous gifts,