And hear me speak.

Cas. Madam, not now; I am very ill at ease;

Unfit for mine own purposes.

Des.

Well, well,

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 guiltylike,

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 reconciliation1 take;

For, if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance, and not in cunning,

I have no judgment in an honest face.

I pr'ythee call him back.

Oth.

Went he hence now?

Des. Ay, sooth; so humbled,

That he hath left part of his grief with me;

I suffer with him. Good love, call him-back.

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

Des. But shall't be shortly?

The sooner, sweet, for you.

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

Des. To-morrow dinner, then?
Oth.

No, not to-night.

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,1) is not almost a fault
To 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 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 difficulty,

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

Des. Emilia, come. --Be it as your fancies teach you; Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exit with EMILIA. Oth. Excellent wretch!1 Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

Iago. My noble lord,

Oth.

What dost thou say, lago?

Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed 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?

By Heaven, he echoes me,

As if there were some monster in his thought

Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something;

I heard thee say but now-Thou lik'dst not that,
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 cry'dst, 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.

Oth.

My lord, you know I love you.
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,1 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.

Iago. 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.3

Utter my thoughts?

Why, say, they are vile and

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 wronged, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts.

Iago.

I do beseech you,

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, -I entreat you, then,
From one that so imperfectly conjects,1

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.

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something,

nothing.

'Twas mine, 'tis 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 thought.

Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;

Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody.

Oth. Ha!

Iago.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ;

It is the green-eyed monster, which doth make