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SCENE V

Table of Contents

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 seem none!

OTHELLO

Certain, men should be what they seem.

IAGO

Why, then, I think Cassio’s an honest man.

OTHELLO

Nay, yet there’s more in this:

I pr’ythee, 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?

OTHELLO

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,

As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague

To spy into abuses, and of my jealousy

Shape 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.

OTHELLO

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.

OTHELLO

By heaven, I’ll know thy thoughts.

IAGO

You cannot, if my heart were in your hand;

Nor shall not, whilst ‘tis in my custody.

OTHELLO

Ha!

IAGO

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

It is the green-ey’d monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on: that cuckold lives in bliss

Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;

But O, what damnèd minutes tells he o’er

Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!

OTHELLO

O misery!

IAGO

Poor and content is rich, and rich enough;

But riches fineless is as poor as winter

To him that ever fears he shall be poor;—

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend

From jealousy!

OTHELLO

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,

Matching thy inference. ‘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:

Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw

The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt;

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 it; 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; look to’t.

I know our country disposition well;

In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks

They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience

Is not to leave undone, but keep unknown.

OTHELLO

Dost thou say so?

IAGO

She did deceive her father, marrying you;

And when she seem’d to shake and fear your looks,

She loved them most.

OTHELLO

And so she did.

IAGO

Why, go to then;

She that, so young, could give out such a seeming,

To seal her father’s eyes up close as oak,—

He thought ‘twas witchcraft,—but I am much to blame;

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon

For too much loving you.

OTHELLO

I am bound to thee for ever.

IAGO

I see this hath a little dash’d your spirits.

OTHELLO

Not a jot, not a jot.

IAGO

Trust me, I fear it has.

I hope you will consider what is spoke

Comes from my love; but I do see you’re mov’d:—

I am to pray you not to strain my speech

To grosser issues nor to larger reach

Than to suspicion.

OTHELLO

I will not.

IAGO

Should you do so, my lord,

My speech should fall into such vile success

Which my thoughts aim’d not. Cassio’s my worthy friend:—

My lord, I see you’re mov’d.

OTHELLO

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!

OTHELLO

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! one may smell in such a will most rank,

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 judgement,

May fall to match you with her country forms,

And happily repent.

OTHELLO

Farewell, farewell:

If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;

Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago.

IAGO

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

OTHELLO

Why did I marry?—This honest creature doubtless

Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.

IAGO

[Returning.] My lord, I would I might entreat your honour

To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:

Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,—

For sure he fills it up with great ability,—

Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,

You shall by that perceive him and his means:

Note if your lady strain his entertainment

With any strong or vehement importunity;

Much will be seen in that. In the meantime,

Let me be thought too busy in my fears,—

As worthy cause I have to fear I am,—

And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.

OTHELLO

Fear not my government.

IAGO

I once more take my leave.

[Exit.]