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.

Should you do so, my lord, My speech should fall into such vile success As my thoughts aim not at. Cassio’s my worthy friend⁠— My lord, I see you’re moved.

No, not much moved: I do not think but Desdemona’s honest.

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 judgment, May fall to match you with her country forms And happily repent.

Farewell, farewell: If more thou dost perceive, let me know more; Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:

Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.