Othello. William Shakespeare
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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.