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Cassio’s kisses on her lips:

       He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stol’n,

       Let him not know’t and he’s not robb’d at all.

      IAGO

       I am sorry to hear this.

      OTHELLO

       I had been happy if the general camp,

       Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,

       So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever

       Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!

       Farewell the plumèd troop and the big wars

       That make ambition virtue! O, farewell,

       Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump,

       The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,

       The royal banner, and all quality,

       Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!

       And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats

       The immortal Jove’s dread clamors counterfeit,

       Farewell! Othello’s occupation’s gone!

      IAGO

       Is’t possible, my lord?—

      OTHELLO

       Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore;—

       [Taking him by the throat.] Be sure of it. Give me the ocular proof;

       Or, by the worth of man’s eternal soul,

       Thou hadst been better have been born a dog

       Than answer my wak’d wrath!

      IAGO

       Is’t come to this?

      OTHELLO

       Make me to see’t; or at the least so prove it,

       That the probation bear no hinge nor loop

       To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!

      IAGO

       My noble lord,—

      OTHELLO

       If thou dost slander her and torture me,

       Never pray more; abandon all remorse;

       On horror’s head horrors accumulate;

       Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amaz’d;

       For nothing canst thou to damnation add

       Greater than that.

      IAGO

       O grace! O heaven defend me!

       Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?—

       God be wi’ you; take mine office.—O wretched fool,

       That liv’st to make thine honesty a vice!—

       O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,

       To be direct and honest is not safe.—

       I thank you for this profit; and from hence

       I’ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offense.

      OTHELLO

       Nay, stay:—thou shouldst be honest.

      IAGO

       I should be wise; for honesty’s a fool,

       And loses that it works for.

      OTHELLO

       By the world,

       I think my wife be honest, and think she is not;

       I think that thou art just, and think thou art not:

       I’ll have some proof: her name, that was as fresh

       As Dian’s visage, is now begrim’d and black

       As mine own face.—If there be cords or knives,

       Poison or fire, or suffocating streams,

       I’ll not endure ‘t.—Would I were satisfied!

      IAGO

       I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:

       I do repent me that I put it to you.

       You would be satisfied?

      OTHELLO

       Would! nay, I will.

      IAGO

       And may: but how? how satisfied, my lord?

       Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on,—

       Behold her tupp’d?

      OTHELLO

       Death and damnation! O!

      IAGO

       It were a tedious difficulty, I think,

       To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,

       If ever mortal eyes do see them bolster

       More than their own! What then? how then?

       What shall I say? Where’s satisfaction?

       It is impossible you should see this

       Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,

       As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross

       As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,

       If imputation and strong circumstances,—

       Which lead directly to the door of truth,—

       Will give you satisfaction, you may have’t.

      OTHELLO

       Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.

      IAGO

       I do not like the office;

       But, sith I am enter’d in this cause so far,—

       Prick’d to it by foolish honesty and love,—

       I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately;

       And, being troubled with a raging tooth,

       I could not sleep.

       There are a kind of men so loose of soul,

       That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:

       One of this kind is Cassio:

       In sleep I heard him say, “Sweet Desdemona,

       Let us be wary, let us hide our loves”;

       And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,

       Cry, “O sweet creature!” and then kiss me hard,

       As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots,

       That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg

       Over my thigh, and sigh’d and kiss’d; and then

       Cried, “Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!”

      OTHELLO

       O monstrous! monstrous!

      IAGO

       Nay, this was but his dream.

      OTHELLO

       But this denoted a foregone conclusion:

       ‘Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.

      IAGO

       And this may help to thicken other proofs

       That do demónstrate thinly.

      OTHELLO

       I’ll tear her all to pieces.

      IAGO

       Nay, but

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