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 judgement in an honest face:
I pr’ythee, call him back.
OTHELLO
Went he hence now?
DESDEMONA
Ay, sooth; so humbled
That he hath left part of his grief with me
To suffer with him. Good love, call him back.
OTHELLO
Not now, sweet Desdemon; some other time.
DESDEMONA
But shall’t be shortly?
OTHELLO
The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA
Shall’t be tonight at supper?
OTHELLO
No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA
Tomorrow dinner then?
OTHELLO
I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA
Why then tomorrow 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 their 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 would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio,
That came awooing 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,—
OTHELLO
Pr’ythee, no more; let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.
DESDEMONA
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.
OTHELLO
I will deny thee nothing:
Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this,
To leave me but a little to myself.
DESDEMONA
Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord.
OTHELLO
Farewell, my Desdemona: I’ll come to thee straight.
DESDEMONA
Emilia, come.—Be as your fancies teach you;
Whate’er you be, I am obedient.
[Exit with Emilia.]
OTHELLO
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,—
OTHELLO
What dost thou say, Iago?
IAGO
Did Michael Cassio, when you woo’d my lady,
Know of your love?
OTHELLO
He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask?
IAGO
But for a satisfaction of my thought;
No further harm.
OTHELLO
Why of thy thought, Iago?
IAGO
I did not think he had been acquainted with her.
OTHELLO
O, yes; and went between us very oft.
IAGO
Indeed!
OTHELLO
Indeed! ay, indeed:—discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest?
IAGO
Honest, my lord!
OTHELLO
Honest! ay, honest.
IAGO
My lord, for aught I know.
OTHELLO
What dost thou think?
IAGO
Think, my lord!
OTHELLO
Think, my lord! 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 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.
OTHELLO
I think thou dost;
And,—for I know thou’rt 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.
OTHELLO
I think so too.
IAGO
Men should be what they seem;
Or those that be not, would they might