reaks out to savage madness

My medicine,

Is not this man jealous?

’Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love.

I nothing but to please his fantasy.

I am glad I have found this napkin;

Why did I marry?

Should you do so, my lord, My speech should fall into such vile success Which my thoughts aim’d not. Cassio’s my worthy friend. My lord, I see you’re mov’d.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls.

Though other things grow fair against the sun, Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.

Thou know’st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft,

She shall undo her credit with the Moor.

Confess yourself freely to her.

there is more sense in that than in reputation.

Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation!

I’ll sell all my land

Put money in thy purse;

I will incontinently drown myself.

If virtue no delighted beauty lack, Your son-in-law is far more fair than black.

Let her have your voice.

ot only take away, but let your sentence Even fall upon my life

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe.

Call up her fathe

thick-lips

Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: In following him, I follow but myself. Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,

We cannot all be masters, nor all masters

That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse,