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;