Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum 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 poor and unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish courtesy would invent some other 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! 't is a night of revels: the gallants desire it.

Cas. Where are they?

Iago. Here at the door : I pray you, call them in. Cas. I'll do it; but it dislikes me. [Exit. Iago. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, With that which he hath drunk to-night already, He'll be as full of quarrel and offence As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool, Roderigo,

Whom love has turned almost the wrong side outward,

To Desdemona hath to-night caroused
Potations pottle deep: and he 's to watch.
Three lads of Cyprus,-noble swelling spirits,
That holds their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,-
Have I to-night flustered with flowing cups:
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of
drunkards,

Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle.-But here they come :
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gen-
tlemen.

Cas. 'Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already.

Mon. Good faith, a little one: not past a pint, as I am a soldier,

Cas. 'Fore heaven, an excellent song. Iago. I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander, Drink, ho!- -are nothing to your English. Cas. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?

Iago. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.

Cas. To the health of our general.

Mon. I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.

Iago. O sweet England!

Sings.

King Stephen was a worthy peer,

His breeches cost him but a crown:
He held them sixpence all to dear;
With that he called the tailor lown.
He was a wight of high renown,

And thou art but of low degree:
'Tis pride that pulls the country down,
Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
Some wine, ho!

Cas. Why this is a more exquisite song than the other.

Iago. Will you hear it again?

Cas. No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place, that does those things.- Well, Heaven's above all and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.

Iago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Cas. For mine own part,-no offence to the general, nor any man of quality,-I hope to be saved. Iago. And so do I too, lieutenant.

Cas. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me: the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. -Let's have no more of this: let's to our affairs. -Forgive us our sins!-Gentlemen, let's look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk this is my ancient :-this is my right hand; and this is my left hand.-I am not drunk now: I can stand well enough, and speak well enough. All. Excellent well.

Cas. Why, very well, then: you must not think, then, that I am drunk. [Exit. Mon. To the platform, masters: come, let's set the watch.

Iago. You see this fellow that is gone before: He is a soldier fit to stand by Cæsar And give direction: and do but see his vice! 'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,

The one as long as th' other: 't is pity of him,
I fear the trust Othello puts him in,

On some odd time of his infirmity,
Will shake this island.

Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.
Mon Come, come, you're drunk.
Cas. Drunk!
[They fight.
Iago. Away, I say! go out, and cry, "A mutiny."
[Aside to RODERIGO, who goes out.
Nay, good lieutenant;-alas, gentlemen :-
Help, ho!-Lieutenant;-Sir Montano;-sir :-
Help, masters!—Here's a goodly watch, indeed!
[Bell rings.
Who's that that rings the bell!-Diablo, ho!
The town will rise.-God's will, lieutenant, hold:
You will be shamed for ever.

Oth. Why, how now, ho!-from whence ariseth this?

Are we turned Turks, and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For christian shame put by this barbarous brawl:
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage,
Holds his soul light: he dies upon his motion.—
Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the isle
From her propriety.—What is the matter, mas-

ters?

Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, Speak, who began this? on thy love I charge thee. Iago. I do not know:-friends all but now,

even now,

In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
Divesting them for bed: and then, but now
(As if some planet had unwitted men),
Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
Any beginning to this peevish odds:
And 'would in action glorious I had lost
These legs that brought me to a part of it!

Oth. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
Cas. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.
Oth. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil;
The gravity and stillness of your youth
The world hath noted, and your name is great
In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter,
That you unlance your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion for the name
Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it.

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger:
Your officer, Iago, can inform you—
While I spare speech, which something now
offends me,-

Of all that I do know: nor know I aught
By me that's said or done amiss this night:
Unless self-charity be sometime a vice;
And to defend ourselves it be a sin,
When violence assails us.

My blood begins my safer guides to rule;
And passion, having my best judgment collied,
Assays to lead the way. If I once stir,
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know
How this foul rout began, who set it on ;
And he that is approved in this offence,
Though he had twinned with me, both at a birth,
Shall lose me.-What! in a town of war,
Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear,
To manage private and domestic quarrel,
In night, and on the court of guard and safety!
'Tis monstrous.-lago, who began it?

Mon. If partially affined, or leagued in office,
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth,
Thou art no soldier.

The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot,
Outran my purpose; and I returned the rather
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night
I ne'er might say before. When I came back
(For this was brief), I found them close together,
At blow and thrust; even as again they were
When you yourself did part them.
More of this matter can I not report:-
But men are men; the best sometimes forget.
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received
From him that fled some strange indignity,
Which patience could not pass.

Come, Desdemona: 't is the soldiers' life
To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife,
[Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO.
Iago. What, are you hurt, lieutenant?
Cas. Ay, past all surgery.

Iago. Marry, heaven forbid!

Cas. Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part, sir, of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago; my reputation!

Iago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound: there is more offence in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! there are ways to recover the general again. You are but now cast in his mood; a punishment more in policy than in malice: even so as one would beat his offenceless dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he's your's.

Cas. I will rather sue to be despised, than to deceive so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk; and speak parrot; and squabble; swagger; swear; and discourse fustian with one's own shadow!-O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!

Iago. What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he done to you?

Cas. I know not.

Iago. Is it possible?

Cas. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly: a quarrel, but nothing wherefore.-O that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, revel, pleasure, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered?

Cas. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the devil wrath: one imperfectness shews me another, to make me frankly despise myself.

Iago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen: but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

Cas. I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by-and-by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange!—

Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil.

Iago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you.

Cas. I have well approved it, sir.—I drunk!

Iago. You or any man living may be drunk at some time, man. I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the general:-I may say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces. Confess yourself freely to her; importune her she'll help to put you in your place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, that she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.

Cas. You advise me well.

Iago. I protest, in the sincerity of love and

When this advice is free I give, and honest,
Probal to thinking, and, indeed, the course
To win the Moor again? For 't is most easy
The inclining Desdemona to subdue
In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful
As the free elements. And then, for her
To win the Moor,-were 't to renounce his baptism,
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,—
His soul is so enfettered to her love
That she may make, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite shall play the god
With his weak function. How am I, then, a villain,
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
Directly to his good?-Divinity of hell!
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows;
As I do now. For while this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,-

That she repeals him for her body's lust :
And by how much she strives to do him good,

She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.-How now, Roderigo?

Enter RODERIGO.

Rod. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the issue will be,-I shall have so much experience for my pains and so, with no money at all, and a little more wit, return to Venice.

Iago. How poor are they that have not patience!

What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;

And wit depends on dilatory time.

Does 't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
And thou by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio.
Though other things grow fair against the sun,
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe:
Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 't is
morning :

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.-
Retire thee: go where thou art billetted.
Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter.
Nay, get thee gone. [Exit RODERIGO.]-Two
things are to be done :

My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress;
I'll set her on :

Myself, the while, to draw the Moor apart,
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find
Soliciting his wife.-Ay, that's the way:
Dull not device by coldness and delay. [Exit.

SCENE I.-Before the Castle.

Enter CASSIO, and some Musicians.

Cas. Masters, play here (I will content your pains)

Something that's brief; and bid, "Good-morrow, general." [Music.

Enter Clown.

Clo. Why, masters, have your instruments been at Naples, that they speak i' the nose thus?

1st Mus. How, sir, how?

Clo. Are these, I pray you, called wind in

struments?

1st Mus. Ay, marry are they, sir. Clo. O, thereby hangs a tail. 1st Mus. Whereby hangs a tale, sir? Clo. Marry, sir, by many a wind instrument that I know. But, masters, here's money for you: and the general so likes your music, that he desires you, of all loves, to make no more noise with it.

1st Mus. Well, sir, we will not.

Clo. If you have any music that may not be heard, to't again: but, as they say, to hear music the general does not greatly care.

1st Mus. We have none such, sir. Clo. Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away. Go; vanish into air; away. [Exeunt Musicians.

Cas. Dost thou hear, my honest friend? Clo. No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.

Cas. Pr'y thee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech. Wilt thou do this?

Clo. She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I shall seem to notify unto her. [Exit.

Enter IAGO.

Cas. Do, good my friend.-In happy time, Iago. Iago. You have not been abed, then? Cas. Why, no: the day had broke Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,