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S C Ε Ν Ε Ι.
The capital of Cyprus. Enter Montano Governor of Cyprus, and two Gentlemer. Mont. Hat from the cape can you discern at fea?
i GentNothing at allit is high
wrought flood; I cannot 'twist the heavens and the main Descry a fail.
Mont. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; A fuller blait ne'er shook our battlements; If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, What ribs of oak, when mouniains melt on them, Can hold the inortise ! what shall we hear of this?
2 Gent. A fegregation of the Turkish fleet;
Mont. If that the Turkish fleet
SCENE II. Enter a third Gentleinan.
Mlort. How! is this true ?
Gent. The ship is here put in,
Mont. I'm glad on't ; 'tis a worthy Governor.
3 Gent. But this fame Cassio, though he speak of
comfort, Touching the Turkish lofs, yet he looks fadly, And prays
the Moor be safe ; for they were parted With foul and violent tempeft.
Mont. Pray heav'ns he be :
Gent. Come, let's do so;
SCENE III. Enter Caflio.
Mont. Is he well fhipp'd ?
Caf. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot
Within.) A fail, a fail, a fail !
Gent. The town is empty; on the brow oth' sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry, A fail.
Caf. My hopes do 1hape him for the Governor.
Gent They do discharge their shot of courtesy:
Gaf. I pray you, Sir, go forth,
[Exit. Mont. But, good Lieutenant, is your General wiv’d?
Caf. Most fortunately, he hath atchiev'd a maid
SCENE IV. Enter Gentleman. How now? who has put in ?
Cent. 'Tis one Iago, Ancient to the General.
Caf. Has had most favourable and happy speed:
Mont. What is the ?
Caf. She that I spake of, our great Captain's Captain,
and on every
S CE N E
hand Enwheel thee round.
Def. I thank you, valiant Callio.
Def. O, but I fear-How loft you company.?
Caf. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship. But hark, A fail !
Within.] A fail, a fail !
Cent. They give this greeting to the citadel :-
Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome, mistrefes,
[T. Æmilia. Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners. 'T'is my breeding,
[Saluting her. That gives me this bold shew of courtesy.
lago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue lhe oft bestows on me, You'd have enough.
Def. Alas! she has no fpeech.
lago. In faith, too much.
puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.
Æmil. You have little cause to say so. lago. Come on, come on; you're pictures out of
doors, Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being öffended, [beds! Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your
Def. O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
lago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk; You rise to play, and go to bed to work.
Æmil. You shall not write my praise. lago. No, let me not. Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou should'st
praise me? lag. O gentle Lady, do not put me to't, For I am nothing, if not critical *. Des. Come, one essay. There's one gone to the
harbour lage. Ay, Madam.
Des. I ain not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise ; Come, how would'st thou praise me?
lago. I am about it; but indeed " my invention
comes from my pate, as birdlime does from freeze, “ it plucks out brains and all.” But my muse labours, and thus she is delivered.
If she be fair and wife, fairness and wit,
Des. Well prais'd; how if she be black and witty ?
She'll find a white that shall ber blackness fit.
For even her folly helped her to an heir. Def. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i' th'alehouse. What miserable praise haft thou for her that's foul and foolish ? Iago. There's none so foul and foolish thereunto,
But does foul pranks, which fair and wife ones do. Der Oh heavy ignorance ! thou praifelt 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;
She was a wight, ( if ever fuch wight were )
Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion ! do not learn of him, Æmilia, though he be thy husband. How say you, Caflio, is he not a most profane and liberalt counsellor?
Caf. He speaks home, Madam; you may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar.
lag. [Afide.] He takes her by the palm ; ay, well faid-whisperWith as little a web as this, will I t liberal, for licentious,