« PreviousContinue »
insnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her,
I know his trumpet.
Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my content,
Des. The heav'ns forbid,
Oth. Amen to that sweet prayer !
lagi. Oh, you are well-tun'd now; but I'll let down
Honey, you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus,
[Exeunt Othello and Desdemona. SCENE VII. Manert lago and Rodorigo.
Tago. Do you meet me presently at the harbour. Come thither, if thou be'st valiant, (as, they say, base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their na. tures, more than is native to them). list me; the Lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard. Firít, I must tell thee, this Desdemona is directly in love with him.
Rod. With him? why, 'tis not poflible.
lago. Lay thy fingers thus; and let thy soul be in. structed. Mark me with what violence the first lov'd the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical eyes. And will she love him ftill for prating? lec 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 fatiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, fyınpathy in years, manners, and beauties; all which the Moor is defective in. Now, for want of these requir'd conveniencies, her delicate tenderness will find itself abus'd, begin to heave the gorge,
disrelith and abhor the Moor; very nature will infruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now, Sir, this granted, (as it is a most pregnant and unforce'd poition), who stands foeminent in the degree of this fortune, as Catsio does ? a knave very voJuble; no further confcionable, than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming, for the better compafing of his falt and most hidden loose affection; a slippery and fubtil knave, a finder of occafions; that his ancie can Samp and counterfeit advantages, tho'
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 compleat knave! and the woman hath found hiin already.
Rod. I cannot believe that of her, she's full of most bless'd condition. lago. Blets'd figs’end! the wine she drinks is made
If she had been bless'd, the would never have lov'd the Moor. Bless'd pudding ! didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand ? didst 1106 mark that?
Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy:
lago. Lechery, by this hand; an index, and oh. fcure prologue to the history of lust, and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips, that their breathsembrace'd together. Villanousthoughts, Rodorigo! when these mutualities so maríhal the way, hard athand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclıfion: pith ---But, Sir, be you ruld by me. I have brought you from Venice, Watch you to-night; for the command I'll lay't upon me.
Cofio knows you not: I'll not be far from you. Do you find some occafion to anger Callio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from whàt other course you please, which the time fhall more favourably miniiler.
lago. Sir, he's rafh, and very sudden in choler; and happily may Itrike at you. Provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I cause those of Cyprus to mutiny: whose qualification shall come into no true taste again, but by transplanting of Callio. So fhall you have a shorter journey to your desires, by the means I fhall then have to prefur them; and the impediments most profitably removed, without which there was no expectation of our prosperity.
Rod. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.
lago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the ci. tadel. I must fetch his necessaries alhore. Farewel. Rod. Adieu.
SCENE VIII. Manet Iago. Iago. That Caffio loves her, I do well believe: That she loves him, 'tis apt, and of
credit. 'The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, Is of a constant, loving, noble nature ; And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona A most dear husband. Now I love her too, Not out of absolute lust, (though peradventure I stand accountant for as great a fin), But partly led to diet my revenge, For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leapt into my feat. The thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; And nothing can or shall content my soul, Till I am even’d with him, wife for wife; Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong, That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
, If this poor brach of Venice, whom I cherilh For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb ; (For I fear Caflio with my night-cap too); Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me, For making him egregioufly an afs; And practiling upon his peace and quiet,
, Even to maduels. 'Tis here—but yet confus'd; Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd. [Exin. SCENE IX.
The street. Enter Herald with a proclamation. Her. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant General, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, importing the mere * perdition of the Turkish feet, every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, fome 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 pleafure should be proclaimed. All offices are open, and mere, for 101.11.
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! [Exit. Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night;
Caf. lago hath direction what to do:
01h. Iago is inost honest.
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 fport for Jove.
Caf. She's a most exquilite lady. lago. And, I'll warrant her, full of game. Cas. Indeed she's a most fresh and delicate creature.
Iago. What an eye fhe has? methinks it sounds a parley to provocation.
Cal. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modelt. lago. And when the 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 black Othello.
Caf. Not to-night, good lago; I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking, I could well with coura tesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.
lago: Oh, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll
drink for you.