DESDEMONA.
The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow!
OTHELLO.
Amen to that, sweet powers! —
I cannot speak enough of this content;
It stops me here; it is too much of joy:
And this, and this, the greatest discords be
[Kissing her.]
That e'er our hearts shall make!
IAGO.
[Aside.] O, you are well tun'd now!
But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.
OTHELLO.
Come, let us to the castle. —
News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd.
How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
Honey, you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus;
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comforts. — I pry'thee, good Iago,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers:
Bring thou the master to the citadel;
He is a good one, and his worthiness
Does challenge much respect. — Come, Desdemona,
Once more well met at Cyprus.
[Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.]
