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Iago. Hah! 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
That he would steal away so guilty-like,
Seeing you coming.

Oth. I 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?

[it,

[my lord,

Des. Why, your lieutenant Cassio. Good

If I have any grace, or power to move you,
His present reconciliation 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, (56) To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. Oth. Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other Des. But shall't be shortly?

[time.

(56) The streaks of light on Cassio's face and person (which may be taken to represent tears) terminate upon the prototype of Desdemona's face.

Oth. The sooner, sweet, for you.
Des. Shall't be to-night at supper?
Oth. 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 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 take examples
Out of their 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 would ask me, that I would deny,
Orstand so mutt'ring on? what? Michael Cassio!--
That came a-wooing with you, and 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
I will deny thee nothing.

Des. Why, this is not a boon :

[will,

'Tis as I should intreat you wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing meats, or keep you warm;; Or sue to you, to do peculiar profit

To your own person. Nay, when I have suit,
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficulty,
And fearful to be granted. (57)

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: Farewel, my lord. Oth. Farewel, my Desdemona, I'll come strait. Des. Æmilia, come; be, as your fancies teach you. Whate'er you be, I am obedient. [Exeunt.

Manent OTHELLO and IAGO.

Oth. Excellent wench!--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, Iago?

Iago. Did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my Know of your love?

[Lady, Oth. He did, from first to last; why dost thou ask? Iago. But for a satisfaction of my thought, No farther harm.

(57) Fearful. The frequent mention in the plays of fear, fright, shaking, trembling, and the like, have relation to the wavering librations of the moon: this interpretation is applicable to the long tirades upon fear in Hudibras.

Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago?

[her.

Iago. I did not think he'd been acquainted with

Oth. Oh and went between us very oft.

yes,

Iago. Indeed!

Oth. Indeed! ay, indeed.

Is he not honest?

Iago. Honest, my lord?

Oth. Honest? ay, honest.

Discernest thou

[aught in that?

Iago. My lord, for aught I know.

Oth. What dost thou think?

Iago. Think, my lord!

[echoest me;

Oth. Think, my lord? why, by Heaven, thou As if there were some monster in thy thought, Too hideous to be shewn. Thou dost mean some

thing;

I heard thee say but now, thou lik❜dst not that,—
When Cassio left my wife. What did'st 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,
Shew 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 weighest thy words before thou givest them

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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're cold dilations 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 praythee s peak to me as to thy thinkings.
As thou dost ruminate and give thy worst of
The worst of words.

Iago. Good my lord,

Tho' I am bound to every act of duty,

[thoughts

I am not bound to that all slaves are free to; [false;
Utter my thoughts!-Why, say, they're 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 sessions sit
With meditations lawful?

Oth. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st A stranger to thy thoughts.

[his ear

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