Three lads of Cyprus,-noble swelling spirits,
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,-
Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups,

And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunk-
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,t
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.

[ards,

Re-enter CASS10, with him MONTANO, and Gentlemen.

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.

Iago. Some wine, ho!

And let me the canakin clink, clink;
And let me the canakin clink;

A soldier's a man:

A life's but a span;

Why then, let a soldier drink.

Some wine, boys!

Cas. 'Fore heaven, an excellent song.

[Sings.

[Wine brought in.

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.

Čas. 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!

• The very elements-] As quarrelsome as the discordia semina rerum; as quick in opposition as fire and water.-JOHNSON.

If consequence do but approve my dream,] Every scheme subsisting only in the imagination may be termed a dream.-JOHNSON.

a rouse,] i. e. A bumper, a large glass.-NARES.

I'll do you justice.] i. e. Drink as much as you do.-STEEVENS.

King Stephen was a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown ;
He held them sixpence all too dear,
With that he call'd 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 that 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.

before ;

Iago. You see this fellow, that is gone
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,

— a worthy peer, ] i. e. A worthy lord; a title frequently bestowed upon kings in our old romances. These two stanzas are taken from an old song, which the reader will find in Percy's Relicks of Ancient Poetry.-RITSON and JOHNSON.

lown.] i. e. Sorry fellow.

The one as long as the 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?

Iago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: He'll watch the horologe a double set,

If drink rock not his cradle."

Mon.

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 Cassio,

And looks not on his evils; Is not this true?

Enter RODERIGO.

Iago. How now, Roderigo?

I pray you, after the lieutenant; go.

[Aside.

[Exit RODERIGO.

Mon. And 'tis great pity, that the noble Moor Should hazard such a place, as his own second, With one of an ingraft infirmity :b

It were an honest action, to say

So to the Moor.

Iago.

Not I, for this fair island:

I do love Cassio well; and would do much

To cure him of this evil. But hark! what noise?

[Cry within,-Help! help!

Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODerigo.

Cas. You rogue! you rascal!

Mon. What's the matter, lieutenant?
Cas. A knave!-teach me my duty!

I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle."
Rod. Beat me!

Cas.

Dost thou prate, rogue?

[Striking RODERIGO.

■ He'll watch the horologe a double set, &c.] If he have no drink, he'll keep awake while the clock strikes two rounds, or four-and-twenty hours. STEEVENS.

b ingraft infirmity;] An infirmity rooted, settled in his constitution.

JOHNSON.

e-into a twiggen bottle.] i. e. A wickered bottle.-STEEVENS.

Iago. Away, I say! go out, and cry-a mutiny.
[Aside to ROD. 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,d ho!
The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant! hold;
You will be sham'd for ever.

Oth.

Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants.

What is the matter here?

Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to the death;-he dies.
Oth. Hold, for your lives.

Iago. Hold, hold, lieutenant,-sir, Montano,-gentleHave you forgot all sense of place and duty?

[men,

Hold, hold! the general speaks to you; hold, for shame!
Oth. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd 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, masters?—
Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving,

Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee.

d Diablo,] A contraction of Diavolo, the Italian word for Devil.— M. MASON.

e He dies.] i. e. He shall die.

f propriety.-]i. e. Regular and proper state. The ringing the bell, which is mentioned above, was a common practice formerly when any great affray happened in a town. At Paris the Tocsin is still rung as often as fires or disturbances break out.-MALONE and STEEVENS.

Iago. I do not know ;-friends all but now, even now,
In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
Devesting 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 unlace 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.

Oth.

Now, by heaven,

My blood begins my safer guides to rule;
And passion, having my best judgment collied,i
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 approv'd in this offence,
Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,-
Shall lose me.-What! in a town of war,

8 In quarter,] i. e. On our station.

h

unlace-] i. e. Loosen. Put in danger of dropping; or perhaps, strip off its ornaments.-JOHNSON.

collied,] i. e. Blackened, deformed.

· approv'd-] That is, convicted by proof.