--Alas, Iago, What shall I do to win my lord again? Good friend, go to him; for by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel; If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse, or thought, or actual deed, Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense Delighted them on any other form- Or that I do not, and ever did And ever will, though he do shake me off To beggarly divorcement, love him dearly, Comfort forswear me. Unkindness may do much, And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love. Iago. I pray you be content:'tis but his humour. The business of the state does him offence. Desdemona. If'twere no other!-- The scene which follows with Aemilia and the song of the Willow are equally beautiful, and show the author's extreme power of varying the expression of passion, in all its moods and in all circumstances; Aemilia. Would you had never seen him. Desdemona. So would not I: my love doth so approve him, That even his stubbornness, his checks, his frowns, Have grace and favour in them, &c. Not the unjust suspicions of Othello, not Iago's treachery, place Desdemona in a more amiable or interesting light than the casual conversation (half earnest, half jest) between her and Aemilia on the common behaviour of women to their husbands. This dialogue takes place just before the last fatal scene. If Othello had overheard it, it would have prevented the whole catastrophe; but then it would have spoiled the play.