Othello
Honest! ay, honest.
Iago
My lord, for aught I know.
Othello
What dost thou think?
Iago
Think, my lord!
Othello
Think, my lord!
By heaven, he echoes me,
As if there were some monster in his thought
Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something:
I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like?
And when I told thee he was of my counsel
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst “Indeed!”