Cas. Bounteous madam, Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio,

He's never any thing but your true servant.

Des. I know 't; I thank you. You do love my lord; You have known him long; and be you well assur'd He shall in strangeness stand no further off

Than in a politic distance.

Cas.

Ay, but, lady,

That policy may either last so long,

Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,
Or breed itself so out of circumstance,
That, I being absent and my place supplied,
My general will forget my love and service.

Des. Do not doubt that; before Emilia here
I give thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it

To the last article; my lord shall never rest;
I'll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;

I'll intermingle every thing he does

With Cassio's suit. Therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die

Than give thy cause away.

Enter OTHELLO and IAGO, at a distance.

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, do your discretion.
Iago. Ha! I like not that.
Oth.

Exit CASSIO.

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;

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 prithee call him back.

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. sweet Desdemona; some other time.

Oth. Not now,

Des. But shall 't be shortly?
Oth.

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; On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: I prithee 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 the best, 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. Prithee, 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 poise 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. Emilia, come. Be 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! 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 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? Is he not honest ?

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 even 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 cried'st '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.

I think thou dost ;

Oth.
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're 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. 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.

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 makʼst 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, 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; '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.