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There comes a fellow crying out for help,
And Callio following with determin'd sword,
To execute upon hin. Sir, this gentleman
Steps in to Caflio, and intreats his paule;
Myself the crying fellow did pursue,
Left by his clamour (as it fo fell out)
The town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot,
Out-ran my purpose: I return'd, the rather
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
And Caflio 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 cannot I report.
But men are men; the best sometimes forget:
Tho' Caffio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them beft;
Yet surely Caffio, I believe, receiv’d
From him that Acd some strange indignity,
Which patience could not pass.

Orb. I know, Iago,
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio. Callio, I love thee;
But never more be officer of mine.

Enter Desdemona attended.
Look if my gentle love be not rais'd up:
I'll make thee an example.

Def. What's the matter?

Oth. All is well, sweeting come to bed.
Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon.
Lead him off.
lago, look with care about the town,
And filence those whom this vile brawl distracted.
Come, Desdemona; 'tis the foldier's life,
To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife.

[Exeunt. SCENE XIII. Manent Iago and Caflio. lago. What, are you hurt, Lieutenant ? Caf. Pait all surgery,

lage.

lago. Marry, Heav'n forbid !

Caf. Reputation, reputation, reputation ! oh I have lost my reputation ! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation ! Iago, my reputation

Iago. As I am an honest man, I had thought you had receiv'd fome bodily wound; there is more fenfe in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and mofl false impofition; oft got without merit, and loft without deferving. You have loft 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 of. fenceless dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he's your's.

Caf. I will rather sue to be despis’d, than to deceive fo good a commander, with fo flight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot * ? and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fuftian with one's own shadow ? Oh thou invincible spirit of wine ! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.

lago. What was he that you follow'd with your sword? what had he done to you?

Caf. I know not. lago. Is't poflible ?

Cas. I remember a mass of things, but nothing diltinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains that we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts.

lago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recover'd?

Caf. It has pleased the devil Drunkernefs to give place to the devil Wrath; one unperfectness fhews me another, to make me frankly defpise myself.

lago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wilh this had not befallen : but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. • A phrufe fignifying to act fcolishly and childishly.

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Caf. I will ask himn for my place again; he shall tell me lam à drunkard ! -had ( as many mouthis as Hydra, such an answer would stop tliem all. To be now a fenfible man, by and by a fool, and presently 2 beast ! Every inordinale cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.

lago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well us’d: exclaim no more against it. And, good Lieutenant, I think you think i love you.

Caf. I have well approv'd it, sir I drunk !

Iago. You, or any man living, may be drunk at fome time, nian I tell

you
what
you

shall do. Our Gene. ral's wife is now the General. I may fay so in this refpeet; for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces. Confe's yourself freely to her: im. portune her help, to put you in your place again. She is of so free, fo kind, fo apt, fo blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than The is requeited. This broken joint between you and her husband, intreat her to iplinter. And, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love thull

grow stronger than it was before. Cal. You advise me well

11:39. I protef, in the fincerity of love, and honelt kindaess.

6.af. I think it freely; and hetimes in the morning I will beleech the virtuous Deldeinona to undertake for me: I ain desperate of my fortunes, if they check ine here.

lago. You are in the right. Good night, Lieutenant,
I mult to the watch.
Gaf Good night, honest laro. [Exit Cassio.
SCEN E XIV.

Manet Ingo.
Jago. And what's he then that frys I play the villain?
When this vice is free I give, and honeit,
Likely to thinking, and indeed the courie
To win the Moor again. For ’tis most easy
Th’inclining Defilemona to subdue
In any lonelt fuit; she's fram'd as fruitful
As the free elements : and then for her
VOL.VIII.

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To

To win the Moor, were't to renounce his baptism,
all seals and symbols of redeemed sin;
His soul is so infetter'd to her love,
That the may male, unmake, do what she list,
Even as her appetite fhall play the god
With his weak funétion. Am I then a villain,
To counsel Cassio to this parallel * course,
Direćily to his good ? Divinity of hell!
When deviis will their blackest sins put on,
They do fuggest at first with heav'nly shews,
ns I do now.---For while this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor ;
I'll pour this pestilence t into his ear,
That she repeals him for her body's lust:
And by how much the strives to do him good,
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch;
sind out of her own goodness make the net,
That shall enmeih | them all. How now, Rodorigo!
SCE N E XV.

Enter Rodorigo. Rod. I do follow here in the chace, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills cry. My money is almoit fpent; I have been to-night exceedingly well cudgelied ; and I think the issue will be, I shall have to inuch experience for my pains; and so with no money at all, and a little more wit, return again to Venice.

lago. How poor are they that have not patience ? What wound did ever heal bur by degrees? Thou know'ít we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; And wit depends on dilatory tiine. Does't not go well ? Caffio hath beaten thee, And thou by that small hurt hast callier'd Callio, Thoother things grow fair against the fun, et fruits that bloßom firit will firit be ripe : Cortent thşiclf a while. In troih, 'tis i'vrning: Hicasure and action make the hours feein short. narril, for ezen: kicaule f.1:a'lel liacs run evin and egcidat,

rpin.
A beép:,55
Ortsvi talielic's ir m Mhes.

up the

Retire three ; go where thou art billeted :
Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter :
Nay, get thee gone.

[Exit Rodorigo
Two things are to be done ;
My wife must move for Callio to her mistress :
I'll let her on :
Myself, the while, to draw the Moor apart,
And bring him jump, when he may Caflio find
Soliciting his wife, may, that's the way:
Dull not, Device, by coldness and delay. [Exit:

A CT III.

S CE N E I.

Before Othello's palace.

Enter Callio, with M:ficians.

M

Caf Afters, play here, I will content your pains;

Something that's brief; and bid, good

morrow, General. [Mufic plays; and enter Clown from the louf. Clown. Why, masters, have your inftruments been in Naples, that they speak i' th nose thus?

Muf. How, Sir, how?
Clorun. Are these, I pray you, wind. instruments ?
Muf. Ay, marry, are they, Sir.
Clown. Oh, thereby hangs a tail.
Muf. Wliereby hangs a tale, Sir ?

Clown. Marry, Sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. But, malters, here's money for you : and the General so likes your music, that he desires you for love's fake to make no more noise with it.

Muf: Well, Sir, we will not.

Clown. 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.

11111f. We have none such, Sir.

Gloiun. Then put up your pipes in your bag, and hie away. Go, vanish into air, a way. [Exeunt Milficians. Caf. Dost thou licar, mine lionelt iriend!

Clown.

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