1 Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk.
2 Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk.
3 You must not think, then, that I am drunk.
4 I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
5 Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.
6 O gentle lady, do not put me to't, For I am nothing if not critical.
7 I am not merry, but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
8 You are the lord of duty, I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband.
9 Now sir, be judge yourself Whether I in any just term am affin'd To love the Moor.
10 My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty: To you I am bound for life and education.
11 Tis true, most worthy signior, The duke's in council, and your noble self, I am sure is sent for.
12 I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
13 Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capp'd to him; and by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
14 I am about it, but indeed, my invention Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze, It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, And thus she is deliver'd.
15 I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified too, and behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more.
16 For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In complement extern, 'tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.'
17 The thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards, And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgement cannot cure.
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