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[ing nigh

Iago. There's noneso foul and foolish thereunto,

But does foul pranks, which fair and

wise ones do. Des. Oh, heavy ignorance ! thou praisest the worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed ? one that, in the authority of her inerit, did justly put down the vouch of very malice itself? lago. She that was ever fair and never proud,

Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud;
Never lack'd gold, and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said, now I

may;
She that when angered, her revengebe-
Bade her wrong stay, and her displea-

sure fly; She that in wisdom never was so frail To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;

[her mind, She that could think, and ne'er disclose See suitors following, and not look behind: She was a wight, (if ever such wight

were---) Des. To do what? Iago. To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.

Des. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion ! Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy

husband.. How say you, Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal censurer ?

Cas. He speaks home, Madam ; you may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar.

Iago. [Aside.] He takes her by the palm; ay, well said—whisper-With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile, upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenancy, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good-well kissed, and excellent courtesy-'tis so indeed—-Yet again- your fingers to your lips? 'would they were clister-pipes for your sake.

[Trumpets. The Moor, I know his trumpet.

Cas. 'Tis truly so.
Des. Let's meet him, and receive him.
Cas. Lo, where he comes ?

Enter OTHELLO and Attendants. Oth. Oh my fair warrior! Des. My dear Othello! Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my content, To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have weakened death:

VOL. III.

And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus high, and duck again as low
As hell's from heaven! if I were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

Des. The Heavens forbid,
But that our loves and comforts should increase,
Even as our days do grow !

Oth. 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. Oh, you are well-tuned now; but I'll let down the pegs that make this music as honest as I am.

[Aside. Oth. Come, let's to the castle. [drowned. Now, friends, our wars are done; the Turks are How do our old acquaintance of this isle ? Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus, I've found great love amongst them. Oh, my sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I doat In mine own comfort. Pr’ythee, 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 and Desdemona.

Manent Iago and RODORIGO. Iago. Do you meet me presently at the harbour. Come thither, if thou be'st valiant; as, they say, base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them) - list me; the lieutenant to-night watches on the court of Guard. First, I must tell thee, this Desdemona is directly in love with him.

Rod. With him ? why, 'tis not possible.

Iago. Lay thy fingers thus; and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical lies. And will she love him still for prating ? let not thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shall she have to look on the devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be again to inflame it, and to give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners, and beauties; all which the Moor is defective in. Now, for want of these required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor;

as

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very nature will instruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now, Sir, this granted, (as it is a most pregnant and unforced position) who stands so eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does ? a knave very voluble; no further conscionable, than in putting on the mere form of civil and human seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden loose affection ; a slippery and subtle knave, a finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself. A devilish knave! besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and green minds look after. A pestilent compleat knaye! and the woman hath found him already.

Rod. I cannot believe that of her; she's full of most blessed condition.

Iago. Blessed figs' end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes. If she had been blessed, she would never have loved the Moor: Blessed pudding! didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand.? didst not mark that?

Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy.

Iago. Lechery, by this hand; an index, and obscure prologue to the history of lust, and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips, that their breaths embraced together. Villainous

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