unbitted lust; whereof I take this, that you call— love, to be a sect,2 or scion.

Rod. It cannot be.

Iago. It is merely a lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: Drown thyself? drown cats, and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard ;3 I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,-put money in thy purse ;-nor he his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration;-put but money in thy purse.These Moors are changeable in their wills;-fill thy purse with money: the food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice.-She must have change, she must: therefore put money in thy purse.-If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst : If sanctimony and a frail vow, betwixt an erring4 barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian, be not too hard for my wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way; seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy, than to be drowned and go without her.

Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue?

lago. Thou art sure of me;-Go, make money: (1) Unbridled.

(2) A sect is what the gardeners call a cutting. (3) Change your countenance with a false beard. (4) Wandering.

-I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: My cause is hearted: thine hath no less reason: Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure, and me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse; go; provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu.

Rod. Where shall we meet i'the morning?
Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? Rod. What say you?

Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear? Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land. Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in your purse. [Exit Roderigo. Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, If I would time expend with such a snipe, But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor; And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office: I know not if't be true; But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do, as if for surety. He holds2 me well; The better shall my purpose work on him. Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now; To get his place, and to plume up my will; A double knavery,-How? how?-Let me see :After some time, to abuse Othello's ear, That he is too familiar with his wife :He hath a person, and a smooth dispose, To be suspected; fram'd to make women false. The Moor is of a free and open nature, That thinks men honest, that but seem to be so; And will as tenderly be led by the nose,

(1) An ancient military word.of command. Esteems.

As asses are.

I have't;-it is engender'd :-Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A sea-port town in Cyprus. A platform. Enter Montano and two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood; I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, Descry a sail.

Mon. Methinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at land:

A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements :

the sea,

If it hath ruffian'd so upon
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? what shall we hear of this?
2 Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous
main,

Seems to cast water on the burning bear,2
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
I never did like molestation view

On th' enchafed flood.

Mon.

If that the Turkish fleet

Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; It is impossible they bear it out.

Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done;

(1) Separation.

(2) The constellation near the polar star.

The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, That their designment halts: A noble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance

On most part of their fleet.

Mon.

How is this true?

3 Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronesé; Michael Cassio,

Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,
Is come on shore: The Moor himself's at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

Mon. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
3 Gent. But this same Cassio,-though he speak
of comfort,

Touching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted With foul and violent tempest.

Mon. 'Pray heaven he be; For I have serv'd him, and the man commands Like a full1 soldier. Let's to the sea-side, ho! As well to see the vessel that's come in, As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello; Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue, An indistinct regard.

3 Gent.

Come, let's do so;

For every minute is expectancy

Of more arrivance.

Enter Cassio.

Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, That so approve the Moor; O let the heavens Give him defence against the elements,

For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.
Mon. Is he well shipp'd?

Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot

Of very expert and approv'd allowance;2
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.

(1) Complete.

(2) Allowed and approved expertness.

[Within.]

A sail, a sail, a sail!

Enter another Gentleman.

Cas. What noise?

4 Gent. The town is empty: on the brow o'the sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry—a sail. Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governor. 2 Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy; [Guns heard.

Our friends, at least.

Cas.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd.

2 Gent. I shall.

[Exit. Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv'd? Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achiev'd a maid That paragons description, and wild fame; One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, And, in the essential vesture of creation, Does bear all excellency.-How now? who has put in?

Re-enter second Gentleman.

2 Gent. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.
Cas. He has had most favourable and happy speed:
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,-
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless knell,-
As having sense of beauty, do omit

Their mortall natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.

Mon.

What is she?

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,
A se'nnight's speed.-Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath;
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,

(1) Deadly, destructive.