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SCENE, the STRE E T.

Enter Herald with a Proclamation.

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General, that upon certain tidings now arriv'd importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph: fome to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his mind leads him. For, besides this 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 have told eleven. Bless the isle of Cyprus, and our noble General Othello !

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SCENE, the CASTLE.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Caslio, and Attendants.

Oth.

Ood Michael, look you to the guard to-night,

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Not to out-sport discretion.

Caf. Iago hath direction what to do:
But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
Will I look to't.

Oth. Iago is most honest ::
Michael, good-night. To-morrow, with your earliest,
Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love,
The purchase made, the fruits are to entue ;
That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
Good-night. (Exeunt Othello and Desdemona.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Welcome, lago; we must to the Watch.

lago. Not this hour, lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten o’th clock. Our General cait us thus early for the love of

his Desdemona : whom let us not therefore blame ; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and she is sport for Jove.

Caf. She's a most exquisite lady. lago. And I'll warrant her, full of game. Caf. Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature.

lago. What an eye she has? methinks, it sounds a parley to provocation.

Cal. An inviting eye; and yet, methinks, right modeft. Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? Caf. She is, indeed, perfection.

lago. 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 biack Othello.

Caj: Not to-night, good lago ; I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking. I could well with, courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

Iago. Oh, they are our friends : but one cup; I'll drink for you.

Caf. 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 tak my weakness with any more.

lago. What, man? 'tis a night of revels, the gallants defire it.

Caf. Where are they? lago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. Caf. I'll do't, but it dislikes me.

[Exit Casio, lago. If I can faften 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, Rodorigo, Whom love hath turn'd almost the

wrong To Desdemona hath to-night carouz'd Potations pottle deep; and he's to watch. Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, That hold their honours in a wary distance,

The

fide out,

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The very elements of this warlike isle,)
Have I to-night flufter'd with flowing cups,
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of

drunkards,
Am I to put our Casio in some action
That may offend the isle. But here they come.
If confequence do but approve my Deem, (18)
My boat fails freely, both with wind and stream.

Enter Caffio, Montano, and gentlemen.

Caf. 'Fore heav'n, they have given me a rouse already,

Mont. Good faith, a little one: not past a pint, as I am a soldier. lago. Some wine, ho !

[Iago fings.

And let me the canakin clink, clink,
And let me the canakin clink.

A soldier's a man; oh, man's life's but a span ;
Wly, then let a soldier drink.

Some wine, boys.

Caf. 'Fore heav'n, an excellent fong.

Iago. I learn’d it in England: where, indeed, they are most potent in potting. Your Dane, your German, and your fwag-belly'd Hollander, - Drink, ho! - are, nothing to your English.

Caf. Is your Englisisman so exquisite in his drinking ?

(18) If Consequence do but approve my Dream,] All the printed Copies concur in this Reading, but, I think, it does not come up to the Poet's Intention; I rather imagine that he wrote,

If consequence do but approve my Deem, i. e. my Opinion, the Judgment I have form’d of what must happen. So, in Troile and Crejida ;

Cref, I true? how now ? what wicked Deem is this?

lago.

lago. 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 filla.

Caj. To the health of our General.
Mon. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you justice.
Iago. Oh sweet England.
King Stephen was an a worthy peer,

His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them fix pence all too dear,

With that he callid 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 !

Caf. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
Iago. Will you hear't again?

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

lago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Cal. For mine own part, (no offence to the general, nor any man of quality ;) I hope to be saved.

Jago. And fo I do 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 our fins

-gentlemen, let's look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk: this is any Ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now; I can fiand weil enough, and I speak well enough.

Gent. Excellent well.

Caf. Why, very well then : you must not think then that I am drunk.

[Exit. Manent

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Manent Iago and Montano.
Mont. To the platform, mafters; come, let's set the

Watch.
lago. You see this fellow, that is gone before ;
He is a foldier, fit to stand by Cæfar,
And give direction. And do but see his vice;
"Tis to his virtues a juft equinox,
The one as long as th'other. 'Tis pity of him;
I fear, the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odd time of his infirmity,
Will shake this island.

Mon. But is he often thus ?

logo. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his ficep.
He'll watch the horologue à double fet,
If drink rock not his cradle.

Mont. It were well,
The General were put in mind of it:
Perhaps, he sees it not; or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cafo,
And looks not on his evils : is not this true ?

Enter Rodorigo. lago. How now, Rodorigo ! I pray you, after the lieutenant, go. [Exit Rod.

Mont. And 'tis great pity, that the noble Moor
Should hazard such a Place as his own Second,
With one of an ingraft infirmity;
It were an honest action to say fo
Unto the Moor..

lago. Not I, for this fair island;
I do love Caffio well, and would do much
To cure him of this evil. Hark, what noise ?

[Within, help! help! Re-enter Caffio, pursuing Rodorigo. Cas. You rogue ! you rascal! Mont. What's the matter, lieutenant ?

Cas. A knave teach me my duty, I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.

Rodo

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