torment: and then have we a prescription to die, when death is our physician. twixt an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian, be not too hard for my wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy, than to be drown Iago. O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four times seven years; and since I could distinguish between a benefit and an injury, I never found a man that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I would drown my-ed and go without her. self for the love of a Guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon. Rod. What should I do? I confess, it is my shame to be so fond; but it is not in virtue to amend it. Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue? Iago. Thou art sure of me ;-Go, make money :-I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: My cause is hearted; thine hath no less reason: Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, and me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse; go; provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu. Iago Virtue? a fig! 'tis in ourselves, that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens; to the which, our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposter-rigo? ous conclusions: But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts; whereof I take this, that you call-love, to be a seet, or scion. Rod. It cannot be. Iago. It is merely a lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: Drown thyself? drown cats, and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,-put money in thy purse ;-nor he his to her it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration ;-put but money in thy purse.-These Moors are changeable in their wills;-fill thy purse with money: the food, that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquiatida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice.-She must have change, she must therefore put money in thy purse.-If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst: If sanctimony and a frail vow, be Rod. Where shall we meet i'the morning? Rod. I'll be with thee betimes. Rod. What say you? Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear. I have't;-it is engender'd:-Hell and night SCENE I-A sea-port town in Cyprus. ACT II. Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, Mont. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: 2 Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet: Seems to cast water on the burning bear, On the enchafed flood. Mon. If that the Turkish fleet Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue, 3 Gent. Come, let's do so; Enter CASSIO. Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot [Within. A sail, a sail, a sail! Enter another Gentleman. Cas. What noise? 4 Gent. The town is empty; on the brow Stand ranks of people, and they cry-a sail. Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd. Enter a third Gentleman. 3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done; Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance Mon. How! is this true? 3 Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronesé; Michael Cassio, Mon. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. fouching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted With foul and violent tempest. Mon. 'Pray heaven he be; For I have serv'd him, and the man commands 2 Gent. I shall. [Exit. Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv'd? Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achiev'd a That paragons description, and wild fame; Re-enter second Gentleman. 2 Gent. 'Tis one lago, ancient to the general. Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel, Mon. What is she? Cas. She, that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago; Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts, The riches of the ship is come on shore! Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio. [Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then guns heard. 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel; This likewise is a friend. Cas. See for the news.- [Exit Gentleman. Good ancient, you are welcome ;-Welcome, mistress : Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, Des. Alas, she has no speech. I find it still, when I have list to sleep: Emil. You have little cause to say so. Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. Des. O, fie, upon thee, slanderer! Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk; Emil. You shall not write my praise. Des. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou should'st praise me? Iago. O, gentle lady, do not put me to't; For I am nothing, if not critical. Des. Come on, assay :-There's one gone to the harbour? Iago. Ay, madam. Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frize, It plucks out brains and all: But my muse labours, And thus she is deliver'd. If she be fair and wise,-fairness and wit, Des. Well praised! How if she be black and witty? Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She'll find a white, that shall her blackness fit. Des. Worse and worse. Emil. How, if fair and foolish? Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair; For even her folly help'd her to an heir. Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish? Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish there unto, But does foul pranks, which fair and wise ones do. Des. O heavy ignorance!-thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed? one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? Iago. 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, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, Bade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly; She, that in wisdom never was so frail, To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail, She, that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, 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. O 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 counsellor ? 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 lieutenantry, 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! an excellent courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? would, they were clyster-pipes for your sake! pet. [Trumpet.] The Moor, I know his trum- | telling her fantastical lies; And will she love Cas. 'Tis truly so. Des. Let's meet him, and receive him. Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants. Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my content, death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of scas, Des. The heavens forbid, But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow! Oth. Amen to that, sweet powers!- That e'er our hearts shall make! As honest as I am. [Aside. Oth. Come, let's to the castle.News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd. How do our old acquaintance of this isle?— I prattle out of fashion, and I dote In mine own comforts.-I pr'ythee, good Iago, 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 acquired conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor; 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 eminently 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 humane seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, none; why, none: A slippery and subtle knave; a finder out 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 complete knave; and the woman hath found him already. Rod. I cannot believe that in her; she is full of most blessed condition. Iago. Blessed fig's 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 thoughts, Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclusion: Pish!-But, sir, be you ruled by me : Does challenge much respect.-Come, Desde- I have brought you from Venice. Watch you mona, Once more well met at Cyprus. [Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants. Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. 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 finger-thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and, to-night; for the command, I'll lay't upon you: Cassio knows you not;-I'll not be far from you: Do you find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what other course you please, which the time shall more favourably minister. Rod. Well. Iago. Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler; and, haply, with his truncheon may strike at you: Provoke him, that he may for, even out of that, will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true taste again, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires, by the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity. Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity. Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. Rod. Adieu. [Exit. Iago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; That she loves him, 'tis apt, and of great credit: And nothing can or shall content my soul, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash For making him egregiously an ass, SCENE II.-A Street. [Exit. Enter a Herald, with a proclamation; People following. Her. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addiction leads him; for, besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptials: So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open; and there is full liberty of feasting, from this present hour of five, till the bell hath told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus, and our noble general, Othello! [Exeunt. creature. Iago. What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of provocation. Cas. An inviting eye; and yet, methinks, right modest. Iago: And, when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love? Cas. She is, indeed, perfection. Iago. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoop of wine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants, that would fain have a measure to the health of the black Othello. Cas. Not to-night, good Iago; I have very well wish courtesy would invent some other poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could custom of entertainment. Iago. O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for you. Cas. I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more. Iago. What, man! 'tis a night of revels; the gallants desire it. Cas. Where are they? Iago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. |