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Mont. I'm glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. 3 Gent. But this same Cassio, though he speak
of comfort, Touching the Turkish loss yet he looks sadly, And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted With foul and violent tempest.
Mont. Pray Heavens he be:
Gent. Come, let's do so;
Enter Cassio. Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, That so approve the Moor: Oh, let the heavens Give him defence against the elements, For I have lost liim on a dangerous sea. Mont. Is he well-shipped?
Cas. His bark is stoutly timbered, and his pilot Of very expert and approved allowance; Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure. .
Within.] A sail, a sail, a sail !
Cas. What noise?
[sea Gent. The town is empty; on the brow of the Stand ranks of people, and they cry, a sail!
Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governor.
Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy; Our friends at least.
Cas. I pray you, sir, go forth,
[Exit. Mont. But, good lieutenant, is your general
wived ? Cas. Most fortunately, he hath achieved a maid That paragons description and wild fame: One that excels the quirks of blaz’ning pens, And in the essential vesture of creation Does bear all excellency
Cas. He's had most favourable and happy speed: Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling
winds, The guttered rocks, and congregated sands, (Traitors ensteeped to clog the guiltless keel, As having sense of beauty, do omit Their mortal natures, letting safe go by The divine Desdemona.
Mont. What is she ?
Cus. She that I spake of, our great captain's
Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio :
Cas. He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught But that he's well, and will be shortly here.
Des. O, but I fear-how lost you company?
Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies. Parted our fellowship. But hark, a sail !
Within.) A sail, a sail !
Gent. They give this greeting to the citadel : This likewise is a friend,
Cas. See for the news: Good ancient, you are welcome. Welcome mistress.
[T. Æmilia. Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, That I extend my manners. 'Tis my breeding That gives me this bold shew of courtesy.
Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You'd have enough.
Des. A las, she has no speech.
Iago. In faith, too much ;
Æmil. You have little cause to say so.
your beds! Des. O, fie upon thee, slanderer !
lago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk. You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
Æmil. You shall not write my praise lago. No, let me not. Des. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou
shouldst praise me?
Iago. Oh, gentle lady, do not put me to't, For I am nothing, if not critical. Des. Come one assay. There's one gone to the
harbourIago. Ay, Madam.
Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise ; Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
Iago. I am about it; but indeed my invention comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frieze, it plucks out brains and all. But my muse labours, and thus she is delivered.
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
Des. Well praised; how if she be black and
Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
She'll find a white that shall her black
Des. Worse and worse.
· Iago. She never yet was foolish, that was fair;
For even her folly helped her to an heir. Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i' th’alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish?