I'll know thy thoughts. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. Ha! O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed 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! O misery! Poor and content is rich and rich enough, But riches fineless is as poor as winter To him that ever fears he shall be poor. Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy! Why, why is this? Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, To follow still the changes of the moon With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, When I shall turn the business of my soul To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- Away at once with love or jealousy! I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason To show the love and duty that I bear you With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: I would not have your free and noble nature, Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: I know our country disposition well; In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. Dost thou say so? She did deceive her father, marrying you; And when she seem'd to shake and fear your looks, She loved them most. And so she did. Why, go to then; She that, so young, could give out such a seeming, To seal her father's eyes up close as oak- He thought 'twas witchcraft--but I am much to blame; I humbly do beseech you of your pardon For too much loving you.