did Michael Cassio, when you wooed my lady, know of your love?
But for the satisfaction of thought, no further harm
He did, from first to last, Why dost thou ask
Men should be what they seem,Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
Certain, men should be what they seem.
This fellow’s of exceeding honesty. And knows all quantities, with a learnèd spirit, human dealings. If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings, I’d whistle her off and let her down the wind. To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black, And have not those soft parts of conversation. That chamberers have, or for I am declined. Into the vale of years—yet that’s not much—She’s gone, I am abused, and my relief. Must be to loathe her.