And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders.

This to hear

Would Desdemona seriously incline :

But still the house-affairs would draw her thence:
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively: I did consent,

And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:

She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange,

'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful :

She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd

That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me,

And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,

I should but teach him how to tell my story,

And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake :
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd,

And I lov'd her that she did pity them.-Act 1, Sc. 3.

Duke. When remedies are past, the griefs are ended.

Act 1, Sc. 3.

Duke. To mourn a mischief that is past and gone,
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.

Act 1, Sc. 3.

Duke. The robb'd that smiles steals something from the

thief;

He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

Act 1, Sc. 3.

Iago. Put money in thy purse.-Act 1, Sc. 3.
Iago. I am nothing if not critical.-Act 2, Sc. I.

Iago. She that was ever fair and never proud,
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,'
She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,
She that in wisdom never was so frail

To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail,
She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,
See suitors following and not look behind,

She was a wight, if ever such wights were,

Des. To do what?

Iago. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.

Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion !-Act 2, Sc. I.

Tago. Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd.

Act 2, Sc. I.

Oth. Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop,
Not to outsport discretion.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Cassio. I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking; I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Iago. He is a soldier fit to stand by Cæsar,

And give direction.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Iago. Potations pottle deep.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Oth. The gravity and stillness of your youth
The world hath noted, and your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Oth.

'Tis the soldiers' life

To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife.

Act 2, Sc. 3.

Cass. Oh God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Cass. Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil.-Act 2, Sc. 3.

Cass. O thou invisible spirit of wine! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.—Act 2, Sc. 3.

Iago. How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

Act 2, Sc. 3.

Tago. Fruits that blossom first, will first be ripe.

Act 2, Sc. 3.

Iago. Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.

Or, those that be not, would they might seem none !

Act 3, Sc. 3.

Iago. Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls :

Iago.

Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something,
nothing;

'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.—Act 3, Sc. 3.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on: that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

Act 3, Sc. 3.

Iago. Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;
But riches fineless is as poor as winter

Iago.

To him that ever fears he shall be poor.-Act 3, Sc. 3.

Trifles light as air

Are to the jealous confirmations strong

As proofs of holy writ.—Act 3, Sc. 3.

Oth. He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know 't, and he's not robb'd at all.
Act 3, Sc. 3.

Oth. Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!

L

And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats
The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone!*

Act 3, Sc. 3.

Emi. But jealous souls will not be answer'd so;
They are not jealous for the cause,

But jealous for they are jealous: 'tis a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself. -Act 3, Sc. 4.

Oth. Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,
And turn again.—Act 4, Sc. I.

Oth. They laugh that win.-Act 4, Sc. I.

Oth.

Had it pleas'd Heaven

To try me with affliction; had they rain'd
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head
Steep'd me in poverty to the very lips;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
I should have found in some place of my soul
A drop of patience: but, alas! to make me
A fixed figure, of the time for scorn

;

To point his slow and moving finger at.-Act 4, Sc. 2.

* Sheridan, in his epilogue to the "School for Scandal," wrote the following amusing parody upon these beautiful lines:

66

'Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content!
Farewell the plumed head, the cushion'd tête,
That takes the cushion from its proper seat!
That spirit-stirring drum !-card drums, I mean,
Spadille, odd trick, pam, basto, king and queen!
And you, ye knockers, that with brazen throat
The welcome visitor's approach denote;
Farewell all quality of high renown,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious town,
Farewell! your revels I partake no more,

And Lady Teazle's occupation 's o'er!"