I do beseech you, Send for the lady to the Sagittary, And let her speak of me before her father: If you do find me foul in her report, The trust, the office I do hold of you, Not only take away, but let your sentence Even fall upon my life.

Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. Exeunt Iago and Attendants. And, till she come, as truly as to heaven I do confess the vices of my blood, So justly to your grave ears I’ll present How I did thrive in this fair lady’s love, And she in mine.