is introduced, just before lago begins to put his scheme in practice, pleading for Cassio with all the thoughtless gaiety of friendship and winning confidence in the love of Othello. What! Michael Cassio? That came a wooing with you, and so many a time, When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, Hath ta'en your part, to have so much to do To bring him in?--Why this is not a boon: 'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, Or feed on nourishing meats, or keep you warm; Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit To your person. Nay, when I have a suit, Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, It shall be full of poise, and fearful to be granted. Othello's confidence, at first only staggered by broken hints and insinuations, recovers itself at sight of Desdemona; and he exclaims If she be false, O then Heav'n mocks itself: I'll not believe it. But presently after, on brooding over his suspicions by himself, and yielding to his apprehensions of the worst, his smothered jealousy breaks out into open fury, and he returns to demand satisfaction of Iago like a wild beast stung with the envenomed shaft of the hunters. 'Look where he comes', &c. In this state of exasperation and violence, after the first paroxysms of his grief and tenderness have had their vent in that passionate apostrophe, 'I felt not Cassio's kisses on her lips,' Iago by false aspersions, and by presenting the most revolting images to his mind, [Footnote: See the passage beginning, 'It is impossible you should see this, Were they as prime as goats,' &c.] easily turns the storm of Passion from himself against Desdemona, and works him up into a trembling agony of doubt and fear, in which he abandons all his love and hopes in a breath. Now do I see'tis true. Look here, Iago, All my fond love thus do I blow to Heav'n. Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell; Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught; For'tis of aspicks' tongues.