Othello
How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
Cassio
I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
Othello
Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil;
The gravity and stillness of your youth
The world hath noted, and your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure: what’s the matter,
That you unlace your reputation thus
And spend your rich opinion for the name
Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it.
Montano
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger:
Your officer, Iago, can inform you—
While I spare speech, which something now
offends me—
Of all that I do know: nor know I aught
By me that’s said or done amiss this night;
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,