Out of their best, is not almost a fault To incur a private check. When fhall he come ? What you could ask me, that I would deny, Hath ta'en your part-to have fo much to do Otb. Pr'ythee, no more. Let him come when he will, I will deny thee nothing. Def. Why, this is not a boon. 'Tis as I fhould entreat you wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing meats, or keep you warm ; 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. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch- my But I do love thee; and when I love thee not, Oth. What doft thou fay, lago? you: [Exeunt. y foul, Iago. Did Michael Caffio, when you woo'd my lady, Otb. He did, from firft to laft. Why dost thou ask? No farther harm. Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago? Jago. I did not think he had been acquainted with it. Iago. Indeed! Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed. Difcern'st thou aught in that? Is he not honest? Iago. Honeft, my Lord? Oth. Honeft! ay honeft. Iago. My Lord, for aught I know. Oth. What doft thou think? Iago. Think, my Lord! Oth. Think, my Lord! Why doft thou echo me; Too hideous to be fhewn? Thou doft mean fomething; Some horrible conceit. If thou doft love me, lago. My Lord, you know I love you.. Oth. I think thou doft: And for I know thou art full of love and honefty, Are tricks of cuftom; but, in a man that's juft, Iago. For Michael Caffio, I dare be fworn, I think, that he is honeft. Iago. Men fhould be what they seem ; Or, thofe that be not, 'would they might feem none ! Iago. Why then, I think, Caffio's an honeft man. I pray thee speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou doft ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts 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 are vile and false; Keep leets and law-days, and in feffions fit Oth. Thou doft confpire against thy friend, Iago, Iago. I do befeech you, Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guess, Your wifdom would not build yourself 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 flave 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. By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. lago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor fhall not, whilft 'tis in my cuftody. Oth. Ha! lago. Oh, beware, my Lord, of jealoufy; Jago. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough; Το To him that ever fears he shall 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 jealoufy, To follow ftill the changes of the moon For fhe had eyes, and chofe me. Iago. I am glad of this; for now I fhall have reafon With franker fpirit. Therefore, as I am bound, In Venice they do let heaven fee the pranks They dare not show their husbands: their best confcience Is not to leave 't undone, but keep 't unknown. Oth. Doft thou fay fo? 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. Iago. Go to, then; She that, fo young, could give out fuch a feeming He thought 'twas witchcraft---But I'm much to blame: R 6 I hum I humbly do befeech you of your pardon, For too much loving you. Oth. I'm bound to thee for ever. lago. I fee this hath a little dafh'd your spirits. Oth. Not a jot, not a jot. 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— To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach, Than to fufpicion. Oth. I will not. lago. Should you do fo, my Lord, My fpeech would fall into fuch vile fuccefs, As my thoughts aim not at. Caffio's my worthy friend. My Lord, I fee you're mov'd. Oth. No, not much mov'd I do not think but Desdemona's honest. Iago. Long live fhe fo! and long live you to think fo! Oth. 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, Oth. Farewel, farewel! If more thou doft perceive, let me know more: Set on thy wife t' obferve. Leave me, lago. lago. My Lord, I take my leave. Oth. Why did I marry?- This honeft creature, doubtless, Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds. [Going. Iago. My Lord, I would I might entreat your Honour To fcan this thing no farther; leave it to time: Although 'tis fit that Casio have his place, For |