Oth.

Went he hence now?

Des. Ay, sooth; so humbled,

That he hath left part of his grief with me,

To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.

Oth. Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.
Des. But shall 't be shortly?

Des. Why then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn :
I pr'ythee, name the time, but let it not

Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent;

And yet his trespass, in our common reason,
(Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of her best) is not almost a fault

T' incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,

What you could ask me that I should deny,

Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came a wooing with you, and so many a time,
When I have spoke of you dispraisingly,

Hath ta'en your part, to have so much to do

To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,

Oth. Pr'ythee, no more: let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.

Des.
Why, this is not a boon ;
'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit

To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poize and difficult weight,
And fearful to be granted.

Oth.

I will deny thee nothing:

Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,

To leave me but a little to myself?

Des. Shall I deny you? no. Farewell, my lord.

Oth. Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. Des. Be it as your fancies teach you; Whate'er you be, I am obedient.

Emilia, come.

[Exit, with EMILIA.

Oth. Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,

But I do love thee, and when I love thee not,

Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady,
Know of your love?

Oth. He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?
Iago. But for a satisfaction of my thought;

No farther harm.

Oth.

Why of thy thought, Iago?

lago. I did not think, he had been acquainted with her. Oth. O, yes; and went between us very oft.

When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?

And, when I told thee, he was of my counsel

In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst, "Indeed!"
And didst contract and purse thy brow together,

As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,
Show me thy thought.

Iago. My lord, you know I love you.

Oth.

I think, thou dost;

And, for I know thou art full of love and honesty,
And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath,
Therefore, these stops of thine fright me the more;
For such things, in a false disloyal knave,
Are tricks of custom; but in a man that's just,
They are close delations, working from the heart,
That passion cannot rule.

Iago.

For Michael Cassio,

I dare be sworn, I think that he is honest.

Oth. I think so too.

Iago.

Men should be what they seem;

Or, those that be not, would they might seem none!
Oth. Certain, men should be what they seem.
lago. Why, then, I think Cassio 's an honest man.
Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this.

I pray thee, speak to me as to thy thinkings,

As thou dost ruminate; and give thy worst of thoughts
The worst of words.

Iago.

Good my lord, pardon me:

Though I am bound to every act of duty,

I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.

Utter my thoughts? Why, say, they are vile and false,

As where 's that palace, whereinto foul things

Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure,

But some uncleanly apprehensions

Keep leets, and law-days, and in session sit

With meditations lawful?

Oth.

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago,
If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

I do beseech you,

Iago.
Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guess,

-

(As, I confess, it is my nature's plague To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy

Shapes faults that are not) — that your wisdom yet,
From one that so imperfectly conceits,

Would take no notice; nor build yourself a trouble
Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
It were not for your quiet, nor your good,
Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom,
To let you know my thoughts.

Oth.

What dost thou mean?

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

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 't is something, nothing; 'T was mine, 't is 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.

Oth. By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts.

Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; Nor shall not, whilst 't is in my custody.

Oth. Ha!

Iago.

O! beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth make
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!
Oth. O misery!

Iago. 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

Think'st thou, I'd make a life of jealousy,

To follow still the changes of the moon

With fresh suspicions? No: to be once in doubt,

Is once to be resolv'd. Exchange me for a goat,
When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blown surmises,

Matching thy inference. 'T is 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.

Iago. 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 abus'd; 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.

Oth.

Dost thou say so?

Iago. She did deceive her father, marrying you; And, when she seem'd to shake, and fear your looks, She lov'd them most.

Oth. Iago.

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, 't was witchcraft. But I am much to blame; I humbly do beseech you of your pardon,

For too much loving you.

Oth.

I am bound to thee for ever.