now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kiss'd! an excellent courtesy! 'tis so indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? would, they were clyster-pipes for your sake. — [A trumpet heard.] The Moor! I know his trumpet.

Cas. 'Tis truly so.

Des.

Let's meet him, and receive him. Cas. Lo, where he comes!

Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants.

Oth. O, my fair warrior!
Des.

Oth. It gives me wonder

To see you here before me.

My dear Othello!

great as my content,
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,

That e'er our hearts shall make !

Iago.

[Kissing her.

[Aside.] O! you are well tun'd now;

But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.

News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are

drown'd.

How does my old acquaintance of this isle?
Honey, you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus,

I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote

In mine own comforts.

I pr'ythee, good Iago,

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, Desdemona, Once more well met at Cyprus.

[Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and At

tendants.

Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. -If thou be'st valiant

as they say

The

base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them,-list me. 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 lov'd 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 requir'd conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself

abus'd, 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 unforc'd position,) who stands so eminently in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does? a knave very voluble; no farther 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 slipper and subtle knave; a finder out of occasion; 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 bless'd conditions.

Iago. Bless'd fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes: if she had been bless'd, she would never have lov'd the Moor: bless'd 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 embrac'd together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo ! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, th' incorporate conclusion. Pish! - But, sir, be you rul'd by me: I have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; for the command, I'll lay 't upon you: Cassio knows you not: - I'll not be far from you: do

you find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what other cause you please, which the time shall more favourably minister.

Iago. Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler, and, happely, [with his truncheon] may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny, whose qualification shall come into no true taste again, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires, by the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity.

Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.

Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Fare. well.

Rod. Adieu.

[Exit.

Iago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;
That she loves him, 'tis apt, and of great 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 do love her too,
Not out of absolute lust, (though, peradventure,
I stand accomptant for as great a sin,)
But partly led to diet my revenge,

For that I do suspect the lusty Moor

Hath leap'd into my seat; 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 trash of Venice, whom I trash
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 Cassio with my night-cap too;
Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me,
For making him egregiously an ass,

And practising upon his peace and quiet,

Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confus'd:
Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

A Street.

Enter a Herald, with a proclamation; People, following.

Herald. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant General, that upon certain tidings now arriv'd, importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addiction leads him; for, besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptials. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open; and there is full liberty of feasting, from this present hour of five till the bell hath toll'd eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus, and our noble General, Othello! [Exeunt.