Emil.
Madam, here comes
My lord.

Cas.
Madam, I'll take my leave.

Des.
Why, stay,
And hear me speak.

Cas.
Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease,
Unfit for mine own purposes.

Des.
Well, well^{1 note},
Do your discretion. [Exit Cassio.

Iago.
Ha! I like not that.

Oth.
What dost thou say?

Iago.
Nothing, my lord: or if—I know not what.

Oth.
Was not that Cassio, parted from my wife?

Iago.
Cassio, my lord? No, sure, I cannot think it,
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.

Oth.
I do believe 'twas he.

Des.
How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man that languishes in your displeasure.

Oth.
Who is't you mean?

Des.
Why, your lieutenant Cassio. Good my lord,
If I have any grace, or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take^{2 note}

Oth.
Went he hence now?

Des.
Ay, sooth; so humbled,
That he hath left part of his grief with me;
I suffer with him^{4 note}. Good love, call him back.

Oth.
Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time.

Des.
But shall't be shortly?

Oth.
The sooner, sweet, for you.

Des.
Shall't be to-night at supper?

Oth.
No, not to-night.

Des.
To-morrow dinner then?

Oth.
I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.

Des.
Why then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn;
Or Tuesday noon, or night; or Wednesday morn;—
I pray thee, 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 their best^{5 note}

That came a wooing with you^{7 note}

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 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^{9 note}

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 will come to thee straight.

Des.
Emilia, come:—Be it as your fancies teach you;
Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exit, with Emilia.

Oth.
Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee^{1 note}

Iago.
My noble lord,—

Oth.
What dost thou say, Iago?

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 further harm.

Oth.
Why of thy thought, Iago?

Iago.
I did not think, he had been acquainted with her.

Oth.
O, yes; and went between us very oft.

Iago.
Indeed?

Oth.
Indeed! ay, indeed:—Discern'st thou aught in that^{4 note}

Iago.
Honest, my lord?

Oth.
Honest? aye, honest^{5 note}

Iago.
My lord, for aught I know.

Oth.
What dost thou think?

Iago.
Think, my lord?

Oth.
Think, my lord!
By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown^{6 note}

In my whole course of wooing, thou cry'dst, Indeed?
And did'st contract and purse thy brow together,
As if thou then had'st shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit* ^note: 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 denotements, working from the heart,
That passion cannot rule^{7 note}

Iago.
For Michael Cassio,
I dare be sworn* ^note, 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^{8 note}

Oth.
Certain, men should be what they seem.

Iago.
Why, then, I think Cassio's^{9 note}

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^{1 note}

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.

Iago.
I do beseech you,—
Though I, perchance, am vicious in my guess^{4 note}

As, I confess, it is my nature's plague
To spy into abuses; and, oft, my jealousy
Shapes faults that are not,—I entreat you then^{5 note}

From one that so imperfectly conjects,
You'd 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* ^note:
Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing^{5 note}

;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands^{6 note}

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

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

Oth.
Ha* ^note!

Iago.
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth make
The meat it feeds on^{7 note}

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^{8 note}!

Oth.
O misery!

Iago.
Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough^{9 note}

But riches, fineless^{1 note}, is as poor as winter^{2 note},
To him that ever fears he shall be poor:—

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!

Oth.
Why? why is this?
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^{3 note}

Matching thy inference^{4 note}


. '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^{5 note}

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 this; 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^{6 note}; look to't:
I know our country disposition well;
In Venice^{7 note}

Oth.
Dost thou say so?

Iago.
She did deceive her father, marrying you;
And, when she seem'd^{9 note}

Oth.
And so she did.

Iago.
Why, go to, then;
She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,
To seel her father's eyes up, close as oak^{1 note}

Oth.
I am bound to thee for ever.

Iago.
I see, this hath a little dash'd your spirits.

Oth.
Not a jot, not a jot.

Iago.
Trust me* ^note, I fear it has.
I hope, you will consider, what is spoke

Comes from my love;—But, I do see you are mov'd:—
I am to pray you, not to strain my speech
To grosser issues^{2 note}, nor to larger reach,
Than to suspicion.

Oth.
I will not.

Iago.
Should you do so, my lord,
My speech should fall into such vile success^{3 note}

Oth.
No, not much mov'd:—
I do not think but Desdemona's honest.

Iago.
Long live she so! and long live you to think so!

Oth.
And yet, how nature erring from itself,—

Iago.
Ay, there's the point:—As,—to be bold with you,—
Not to affect many proposed matches,
Of her own clime, complexion, and degree;
Whereto, we see, in all things nature tends:
Foh* ^note! one may smell, in such, a will most rank^{4 note},
Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural.—
But pardon me; I do not, in position,
Distinctly speak of her: though I may fear,
Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,
May fall to match you with her country forms,
And (hapily) repent.

Oth.
Farewell, farewell:
If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;
Set on thy wife to observe: Leave me, Iago.

Iago.
My lord, I take my leave. [Going.

Oth.
Why did I marry?—This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

Iago.
My lord, I would, I might entreat your honour
To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:
Though it be fit† ^note that Cassio have his place,
(For, sure, he fills it up with great ability,)
Yet, if you please to hold him off a while,
You shall by that perceive him and his means^{5 note}:

Note, if your lady strain his entertainment^{6 note}

Oth.
Fear not my government^{7 note}.

Iago.
I once more take my leave. [Exit.

Oth.
This fellow's of exceeding honesty,
And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit^{8 note}

Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings^{1 note}

That chamberers^{4 note}

Even then this forked plague^{7 note}