228 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
I ago. Blessed fig’s-end ! the wine she drinks is made of 
grapes : if she had been blessed, she would never have 
loved the Moor. Blessed pudding ! Didst thou not see her 
paddle with the palm of his hand ? didst not mark that ? 
II. i. 256. 
I ago. Why, go to then ; 
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming, 
To seel 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. 
III. iii. 208. 
Iago. Nay, but be wise : yet we see nothing done ; 
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this, 
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief 
Spotted with strawberries in your wife’s hand ? 
III. iii. 432. 
Look, where he comes ! 
Enter Othello. 
Not poppy, nor mandragora, 
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, 
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 
Which thou owedst yesterday. 
III. iii. 330. 
Des. My mother had a maid call’d Barbara: 
She was in love, and he she lov’d prov’d mad 
And did forsake her : she had a song of “ willow 
An old thing ’twas, but it express’d her fortune, 
And she died singing it: that song to-night 
Will not go from my mind ; I have much to do, 
But to go hang my head all at one side, 
And sing it like poor Barbara. 
IV. iii 26. 
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, 
Sing all a green willow ; 
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, 
Sing, willow, willow, willow: 
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans; 
Sing willow, willow, willow ; 
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;— 
Lay by these :— 
Sing willow, willow, willow; 
Prithee, hie thee ; he’ll come anon : — 
Sing all a green willow must be my garland. 
