HAMLET's SOLILOQUY.

TO BE

O BE OR NOT TO-BE-That is the quefticn. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to fuffer The ftings and arrows of outrageous fortune; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by oppofing end them! To die? to fleep No more and, by a fleep, to say we end The heart ach and the thousand natural fhocks That flesh is heir to ;-'tis a confummation Devoutly to be wifh'd.—To die? to fleepTo fleep? perchance to dream.-Ay, there's the

rub

For in that fleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have fhuffled off this mortal coil,
Muft give us paufe.There's the respect,
That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and fcorns of time, Th' oppreffor's wrongs, the proud man's contu-` mely,

The pangs of defpis'd love, the law's delay,
Th' infolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes ;
When he himself might his quietus make,
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardles bear,
To groan and fweat under a weary life?
But that the dread of fomething after death,
(That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns) puzzles the will;
And makes us, rather bear thofe ills we have,

Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Confcience does make cowards of us all :
And thus the native hue of refolution

Is ficklied o'er with the pale caft of thought;
And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And loose the name of action.-

IAGO exciting the Paffion of JEALOUSY in OTHELLO.

Y Lord, you know, I love you.

For Michael Caffio;

I dare be fworn (I think) that he is honest.
Men fhould be, what they feem;

Or, those that be not, would they might feem

But what they seem.

(none Why, then, I think Caffio's an honest man.

I do befeech you, good my Lord!

Think, I (perchance) am vicious in my guess :
As, I confefs, it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuse: and oft' my jealoufy
Shapes faults that are not. I entreat you then,
From one who fo imperfectly conjects,

Your wisdom would not build your-felf a trouble,
Out of my scattering and unfure observance !
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wifdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

GOOD NAME in man and woman (dear my Lord)
Is the immediate jewel of their fouls.

Who steals my Furfe, fteals trash; 'tis fomething,

nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flave to thoufands; But he that filches from me my good Name, Robs me of that, which not enriches him ; And makes me poor indeed.

Oh, beware (my Lord) of JEALOUSY;
It is a green-ey'd Monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That Cuckold lives in bliss,
Who, certain of his fate, loves nót his wronger :
But, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er,
Whodoats, yet doubts; fufpects, yet strongly loves!
Poor and Content, is rich, and rich enough:
But riches endless, is as poor as winter,
To him, that fears he ever fhall be poor..
Good Heav'n! the fouls of all my tribe defend
From Jealousy!--

I'm glad of this; for now I fhall have reason
To fhow the love and duty that I bear you,
With franker fpirit: therefore, as I'm bound,
Receive it from me. I fpeak not yet of proof-
Look to your wife! Obferve her well with Cafsio!
Wear your eye, thus; rot jealous, nor fecure?-
I would not have your free and noble nature,
Out of felf-bounty be abus'd;-Look to it!
I know our country difpofition well:

In Venice they do let Heav'n fee the pranks,
They dare not fhow their husbands; their best
*confcience

Is not to leav't undone, but keep't unknown.
She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And when the feem'd to shake, and fear your looks,

She lov'd them moft.

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 befeech you, fir, your pardon,
For too-much loving you!

I hope, you will confider, what is spoken,
Comes from my love. But, I do fee, you're
mov'd.

I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To groffer iffues, nor to larger reach,

Than to fufpicion.-Should you do fo, my lord;
My fpeech would fall into fuch vile fuccefs,

As my thoughts aim not at.-Cassio's my worthy friend.

My lord! I would, I might entreat your honour, To fean this thing no farther. Leave it to time. Although 'tis fit, that Cafsio have his place; (For, fure, he filled it up with great ability;) Yet, if you please to hold him off a while, You shall by that perceive him and his means. Note, if your lady strain his entertainment, With any strong or vehement importunity! Much will be feen 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. Shakespear, Othello. Act 3.

BRUTUS's Oration on CÆSAR's Death.

Countrymen, and friends! hear me, for my cause and be filent, that ye may hear! believe me, for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe! Cenfure me, in your wisdom; and awake your fenfes, that ye may the better judge!

If there be any in this affembly, any dear friend. of Cafar's; to him I fay, that Brutus' love to Cafar was no less than his.' If then, that friend demand. why Brutus rose against Cafar;' this is my answer: Not, that I lov'd Cafar lefs;' but, that I lov'd Rome more.' Had Had ye rather, that Cæfar were living, and die all flaves; than, that Cafar were dead, and live all free-men?

As Cafar lov'd me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I flew him. There are, tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour, and death for his ambition.

Who is here fo bafe, that would be a bondman?-If any, speak;-for, him have I offended. -Who is here fo rude, that would not be a Roman?-If any, fpeak ;-for, him have I offended. Who is here fo vile, that will not love his country?-If any, fpeak ;-for, him have I offended-I paufe for a reply.-Since none is made, then none have I offended.