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—that your wisdom then,

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, and 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-eyed 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 damned minutes tells he o’er

Who dotes yet doubts, suspects yet fondly 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 God 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 resolved. Exchange me for a goat

When I shall turn the business of my soul

To such exsufflicate and blowed 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 this, 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 eyes thus: not jealous, nor secure.

I would not have your free and noble nature

Out of self-bounty be abused. Look to’t.

I know our country disposition well.

In Venice they do let God see the pranks

They dare not show their husbands; their best

conscience

Is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t unknown.

OTHELLO Dost thou say so?

IAGO

She did deceive her father, marrying you,

And when she seemed 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 seel 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 dashed your spirits.

OTHELLO

Not a jot, not a jot.

IAGO I’faith, I fear it has.

I hope you will consider what is spoke

Comes from my love. But I do see you’re moved.

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 aimed not. Cassio’s my worthy

friend.

My lord, I see you’re moved.

OTHELLO No, not much moved.

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 disproportions, 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)