OTHELLO.
Not now, sweet Desdemon, some other time.
DESDEMONA.
But shall’t be shortly?
OTHELLO.
The sooner, sweet, for you.
DESDEMONA.
Shall’t be tonight at supper?
OTHELLO.
No, not tonight.
DESDEMONA.
Tomorrow dinner then?
OTHELLO.
I shall not dine at home;
I meet the captains at the citadel.
DESDEMONA.
Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn,
On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn.
I prithee name the time, but let it not
Exceed three days. In faith, he’s penitent;
And yet his trespass, in our common reason,
(Save that, they say, the wars must make examples
Out of their best) is not almost a fault
To incur a private check. When shall he come?
Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul,
What you would ask me, that I should deny,
Or stand so mammering on. 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! Trust me, I could do much.
OTHELLO.
Prithee no more. Let him come when he will;
I will deny thee nothing.
DESDEMONA.
Why, this is not a boon;
’Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves,
Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm,
Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit
To your own person: nay, when I have a suit
Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed,
It shall be full of poise and difficult weight,
And fearful to be granted.