Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago; Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts, That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, The riches of the ship is come on shore! Des. [Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then guns heard. 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel; This likewise is a friend. Cas. See for the news. [Erit Gentleman. Good ancient, you are welcome ;-Welcome, mistress: [To EMILIA. Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her. Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, Des. Alas, she has no speech. lago. In faith, too much; I find it still, when I have list to sleep: She puts her tongue a little in her heart, Emil. You have little cause to say so. Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. Des. O, fye upon thee, slanderer! Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk; You rise to play, and go to bed to work. Emil. You shall not write my praise. Iago. No, let me not. Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou should'st praise me? Lago. O gentle lady, do not put me to❜t; For I am nothing, if not critical. Des. Come on, assay:-There's one gone to the harbour? Iago. Ay, madam. Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.Come, how would'st thou praise me? Iago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frize, It plucks out brains and all: But my muse And thus she is deliver'd. [labours, If she be fair and wise, fairness, and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it. Des. Well prais'd! How if she be black and witty? Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. Des. Worse and worse. Emil. How, if fair and foolish? Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair; For even her folly help'd her to an heir. Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish? Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish there unto, But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. Des. O heavy ignorance!-thou praisest 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; Never lack'd gold, and yet went never gay; Fled from her wish, and yet said,-now I may; She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, Bade her wrong stay, and her displeasure fly: She, that in wisdom never was so frail, To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; She that could think, and ne'er disclose her mind, See suitors following, and not look behind; She was a wight,-if ever such wight were,Des. To do what? Iago. To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer. Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion! -Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband.-How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor? Cas. He speaks home, madam; you may relish him more in the soldier, than in the scholar. Iago. [Aside.] He takes her by the palm: Ay, well said, whisper: with as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true; 'tis so indeed: if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? 'would, they were clyster-pipes for your sake! [Trumpet.] The Moor, I know his trumpet. Cas. 'Tis truly so. Des. Let's meet him, and receive him. Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants. Oth. O my fair warrior! My dear Othello! Des. Oth. It gives me wonder great as my content, To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, "Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate. Des. The heavens forbid, But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow! Oth. Amen to that, sweet powers!I cannot speak enough of this content, It stops me here; it is too much of joy: And this, and this, the greatest discords be, [Kissing her. That e'er our hearts shall make ! [Aside Oth. How do our old acquaintance of this isle?- I prattle out of fashion, and I dote Iu mine own comforts.-I pr'ythee, good lago, Go to the bay, and disembark my coffers: Bring thou the master to the citadel; He is a good one, and his worthiness Does challenge much respect.-Come, Desde mona, Once more well met at Cyprus. [Exeunt OTH. DES. and Attendants. Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. If thou be'st valiant as (they say) base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them,-list me. The lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard :-First, I must tell thee this-Desdemona is directly in love with him. Rod. With him! why, 'tis not possible. Iago. Lay thy finger-thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical lies: And will she love him still for prating? let 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 satiety a fresh appetite,-loveliness in favour; sympathy in years, manners, and beauties; all which the Moor is defective in: Now, for want of these required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will instruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now, sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and unforced position), who stands so eminently in the degree of this fortune, as Cassio does? a knave very voluble, no further conscionable, than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, none; why, none: A slippery and subtle knave; a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though 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 complete knave; and the woman hath found him already. Rod. I cannot believe that in her; she is full of most blessed condition. Iago. Blessed fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never have loved the Moor; Blessed pudding! Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst not mark that? Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. Iago. Lechery, by this hand; an index, and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips, that their breaths embraced together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclusion: |