Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.
Mon. What from the Cape, can you discerne at Sea?
1.Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood:
I cannot 'twixt the Heauen, and the Maine,
Descry a Saile
Mon. Me thinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at Land,
A fuller blast ne're shooke our Battlements:
If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea,
What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them,
Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this?
2 A Segregation of the Turkish Fleet:
For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore,
The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds,
The winde-shak'd-Surge, with high & monstrous Maine
Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare,
And quench the Guards of th' euer-fixed Pole:
I neuer did like mollestation view
On the enchafed Flood
Men. If that the Turkish Fleete
Be not enshelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd,
It is impossible to beare it out.
Enter a Gentleman.
3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done:
The desperate Tempest hath so bang'd the Turkes,
That their designement halts. A Noble ship of Venice,
Hath seene a greeuous wracke and sufferance
On most part of their Fleet
Mon. How? Is this true?
3 The Ship is heere put in: A Verennessa, Michael Cassio
Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello,
Is come on Shore: the Moore himselfe at Sea,
And is in full Commission heere for Cyprus
Mon. I am glad on't:
'Tis a worthy Gouernour
3 But this same Cassio, though he speake of comfort,
Touching the Turkish losse, yet he lookes sadly,
And praye the Moore be safe; for they were parted
With fowle and violent Tempest
Mon. Pray Heauens he be:
For I haue seru'd him, and the man commands
Like a full Soldier. Let's to the Sea-side (hoa)
As well to see the Vessell that's come in,
As to throw-out our eyes for braue Othello,
Euen till we make the Maine, and th' Eriall blew,
An indistinct regard
Gent. Come, let's do so;
For euery Minute is expectancie
Of more Arriuancie.
Cassi. Thankes you, the valiant of the warlike Isle,
That so approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens
Giue him defence against the Elements,
For I haue lost him on a dangerous Sea
Mon. Is he well ship'd?
Cassio. His Barke is stoutly Timber'd, and his Pylot
Of verie expert, and approu'd Allowance;
Therefore my hope's (not surfetted to death)
Stand in bold Cure
Within. A Saile, a Saile, a Saile
Cassio. What noise?
Gent. The Towne is empty; on the brow o'th' Sea
Stand rankes of People and they cry, a Saile
Cassio. My hopes do shape him for the Gouernor
Gent. They do discharge their Shot of Courtesie,
Our Friends, at least
Cassio. I pray you Sir, go forth,
And giue vs truth who 'tis that is arriu'd
Gent. I shall.
Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu'd?
Cassio. Most fortunately: he hath atchieu'd a Maid
That paragons description, and wilde Fame:
One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens,
And in th' essentiall Vesture of Creation,
Do's tyre the Ingeniuer.
How now? Who ha's put in?
Gent. 'Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall
Cassio. Ha's had most fauourable, and happie speed:
Tempests themselues, high Seas, and howling windes,
The gutter'd-Rockes, and Congregated Sands,
Traitors ensteep'd, to enclogge the guiltlesse Keele,
As hauing sence of Beautie, do omit
Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by
The Diuine Desdemona
Mon. What is she?
Cassio. She that I spake of:
Our great Captains Captaine,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
Whose footing heere anticipates our thoughts,
A Senights speed. Great Ioue, Othello guard,
And swell his Saile with thine owne powrefull breath,
That he may blesse this Bay with his tall Ship,
Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonaes Armes,
Giue renew'd fire to our extincted Spirits.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Aemilia.
The Riches of the Ship is come on shore:
You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees.
Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen,
Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand
Enwheele thee round
Des. I thanke you, Valiant Cassio,
What tydings can you tell of my Lord?
Cas. He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought
But that he's well, and will be shortly heere
Des. Oh, but I feare:
How lost you company?
Cassio. The great Contention of Sea, and Skies
Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile
Within. A Saile, a Saile
Gent. They giue this greeting to the Cittadell:
This likewise is a Friend
Cassio. See for the Newes:
Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris:
Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago)
That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding,
That giues me this bold shew of Curtesie
Iago. Sir, would she giue you so much of her lippes,
As of her tongue she oft bestowes on me,
You would haue enough
Des. Alas: she ha's no speech
Iago. Infaith too much:
I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe.
Marry before your Ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking
aemil. You haue little cause to say so
Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of
doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens:
Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended:
Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your
Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer
Iago. Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke,
You rise to play, and go to bed to worke.
Aemil. You shall not write my praise
Iago. No, let me not
Desde. What would'st write of me, if thou should'st
Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too't,
For I am nothing, if not Criticall
Des. Come on, assay.
There's one gone to the Harbour?
Iago. I 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 inuention comes
from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes
out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she
If she be faire, and wise: fairenesse, and wit,
The ones for vse, the other vseth it
Des. Well prais'd:
How if she be Blacke and Witty?
Iago. If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit,
She'le find a white, that shall her blacknesse fit
Des. Worse, and worse.
Aemil. How if Faire, and Foolish?
Iago. She neuer yet was foolish that was faire,
For euen her folly helpt her to an heire
Desde. These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles
laugh i'th' Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou
for her that's Foule, and Foolish
Iago. There's none so foule and foolish thereunto,
But do's foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do
Desde. Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst
best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deseruing
woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her
merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it
Iago. She that was euer faire, and neuer proud,
Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud:
Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said now I may.
She that being angred, her reuenge being nie,
Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flie:
She that in wisedome neuer was so fraile,
To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile:
She that could thinke, and neu'r disclose her mind,
See Suitors following, and not looke behind:
She was a wight, (if euer such wightes were)
Des. To do what?
Iago. To suckle Fooles, and chronicle small Beere
Desde. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do
not learne of him aemillia, though he be thy husband.
How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and liberall
Cassio. He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish
him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler
Iago. He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whisper.
With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great
a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee
in thine owne Courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed.
If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenantrie,
it had beene better you had not kiss'd your three fingers
so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play
the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss'd, and excellent Curtsie:
'tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your
lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your
The Moore I know his Trumpet
Cassio. 'Tis truely so
Des. Let's meete him, and recieue him
Cassio. Loe, where he comes.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
Oth. O, my faire Warriour
Des. My deere Othello
Othe. It giues me wonder great, as my content
To see you heere before me.
Oh my Soules Ioy:
If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes,
May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death:
And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas
Olympus high: and duck againe as low,
As hell's from Heauen. If it were now to dye,
'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare,
My Soule hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this,
Succeedes in vnknowne Fate
Des. The Heauens forbid
But that our Loues
And Comforts should encrease
Euen as our dayes do grow
Othe. Amen to that (sweet Powers)
I cannot speake enough of this content,
It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy.
And this, and this the greatest discords be
That ere our hearts shall make
Iago. Oh you are well tun'd now: But Ile set downe
the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am
Othe. Come: let vs to the Castle.
Newes (Friends) our Warres are done:
The Turkes are drown'd.
How do's my old Acquaintance of this Isle?
(Hony) you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus,
I haue found great loue among'st them. Oh my Sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I doate
In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago,
Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers:
Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell,
He is a good one, and his worthynesse
Do's challenge much respect. Come Desdemona,
Once more well met at Cyprus.
Exit Othello and Desdemona.
Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour.
Come thither, if thou be'st Valiant, (as they say base men
being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures,
more then is natiue to them) list-me; the Lieutenant to
night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell
thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him
Rod. With him? Why, 'tis not possible
Iago. Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be instructed.
Marke me with what violence she first lou'd
the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall
lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet
heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight
shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood
is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a
game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite.
Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners,
and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now
for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate
tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus'd, begin to heaue the,
gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil
instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice.
Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vnforc'd
position) who stands so eminent in the degree of
this Fortune, as Cassio do's: a knaue very voluble: no
further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme
of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse
of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none,
why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occasion:
that he's an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Aduantages,
though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe.
A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young:
and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene
mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the
woman hath found him already
Rodo. I cannot beleeue that in her, she's full of most
Iago. Bless'd figges-end. The Wine she drinkes is
made of grapes. If shee had beene bless'd, shee would
neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bless'd pudding. Didst thou
not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not
Rod. Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie
Iago . Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure
prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts.
They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes
embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when
these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand
comes the Master, and maine exercise, th' incorporate
conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue
brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for
the Command, Ile lay't vpon you. So shall you
haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I
shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment
most profitably remoued, without the which there were
no expectation of our prosperitie
Rodo. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity
Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the
Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Farewell
Enter Othello's Herald with a Proclamation.
Herald. It is Othello's pleasure, our Noble and Valiant
Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu'd,
importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete:
euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce,
some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and
Reuels his addition leads him. For besides these beneficiall
Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So
much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices
are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this
present houre of fiue, till the Bell haue told eleuen.
Blesse the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othello.
Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
Othe. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night.
Let's teach our selues that Honourable stop,
Not to out-sport discretion
Cas. Iago, hath direction what to do.
But notwithstanding with my personall eye
Will I looke to't
Othe. Iago, is most honest:
Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earliest,
Let me haue speech with you. Come my deere Loue,
The purchase made, the fruites are to ensue,
That profit's yet to come 'tweene me, and you.
Cas. Welcome Iago: we must to the Watch
Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten
o'th' clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the
loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame;
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and
she is sport for Ioue
Cas. She's a most exquisite Lady
Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game
Cas. Indeed shes a most fresh and delicate creature
Iago. What an eye she ha's?
Me thinkes it sounds a parley to prouocation
Cas. An inuiting eye:
And yet me thinkes right modest
Iago. And when she speakes,
Is it not an Alarum to Loue?
Cas. She is indeed perfection
Iago. Well: happinesse to their Sheetes. Come Lieutenant,
I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a
brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a measure
to the health of blacke Othello
Cas. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish
Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of entertainment
Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
drinke for you
Cassio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation
it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and
dare not taske my weakenesse with any more
Iago. What man? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gallants
Cas. Where are they?
Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in
Cas. Ile do't, but it dislikes me.
Iago. If I can fasten but one Cup vpon him
With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie,
He'l be as full of Quarrell, and offence
As my yong Mistris dogge.
Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo,
Whom Loue hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd.
Potations, pottle-deepe; and he's to watch.
Three else of Cyprus, Noble swelling Spirites,
(That hold their Honours in a wary distance,
The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle)
Haue I to night fluster'd with flowing Cups,
And they Watch too.
Now 'mongst this Flocke of drunkards
Am I put to our Cassio in some Action
That may offend the Isle. But here they come.
Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen.
If Consequence do but approue my dreame,
My Boate sailes freely, both with winde and Streame
Cas. 'Fore heauen, they haue giuen me a rowse already
Mon. Good-faith a litle one: not past a pint, as I am a
Iago. Some Wine hoa.
And let me the Cannakin clinke, clinke:
And let me the Cannakin clinke.
A Souldiers a man: Oh, mans life's but a span,
Why then let a Souldier drinke.
Some Wine Boyes
Cas. 'Fore Heauen: an excellent Song
Iago. I learn'd it in England: where indeed they are
most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine,
and your swag-belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are
nothing to your English
Cassio. Is your Englishmen so exquisite in his drinking?
Iago. Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane
dead drunke. He sweates not to ouerthrow your Almaine.
He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
Pottle can be fill'd
Cas. To the health of our Generall
Mon. I am for it Lieutenant: and Ile do you Iustice
Iago. Oh sweet England.
King Stephen was anda worthy Peere,
His Breeches cost him but a Crowne,
He held them Six pence all to deere,
With that he cal'd the Tailor Lowne:
He was a wight of high Renowne,
And thou art but of low degree:
'Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe,
And take thy awl'd Cloake about thee.
Some Wine hoa
Cassio. Why this is a more exquisite Song then the other
Iago. Will you heare't againe?
Cas. No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place,
that do's those things. Well: heau'ns aboue all: and
there be soules must be saued, and there be soules must
not be saued
Iago. It's true, good Lieutenant
Cas. For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall,
nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued
Iago. And so do I too Lieutenant
Cassio. I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's haue
no more of this: let's to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our
sinnes: Gentlemen let's looke to our businesse. Do not
thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this
is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke
now: I can stand well enough, and I speake well enough
Gent. Excellent well
Cas. Why very well then: you must not thinke then,
that I am drunke.
Monta. To th' Platforme (Masters) come, let's set the
Iago. You see this Fellow, that is gone before,
He's a Souldier, fit to stand by Caesar,
And giue direction. And do but see his vice,
'Tis to his vertue, a iust Equinox,
The one as long as th' other. 'Tis pittie of him:
I feare the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odde time of his infirmitie
Will shake this Island
Mont. But is he often thus?
Iago. 'Tis euermore his prologue to his sleepe,
He'le watch the Horologe a double Set,
If Drinke rocke not his Cradle
Mont. It were well
The Generall were put in mind of it:
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the vertue that appeares in Cassio,
And lookes not on his euills: is not this true?
Iago. How now Rodorigo?
I pray you after the Lieutenant, go
Mon. And 'tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore
Should hazard such a Place, as his owne Second
With one of an ingraft Infirmitie,
It were an honest Action, to say so
To the Moore
Iago. Not I, for this faire Island,
I do loue Cassio well: and would do much
To cure him of this euill, But hearke, what noise?
Enter Cassio pursuing Rodorigo.
Cas. You Rogue: you Rascall
Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant?
Cas. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the
Knaue in to a Twiggen-Bottle
Rod. Beate me?
Cas. Dost thou prate, Rogue?
Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant:
I pray you Sir, hold your hand
Cassio. Let me go (Sir)
Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard
Mon. Come, come: you're drunke
Iago. Away I say: go out and cry a Mutinie.
Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen:
Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano:
Helpe Masters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed.
Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa:
The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant,
You'le be asham'd for euer.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
Othe. What is the matter heere?
Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to th' death. He dies
Othe. Hold for your liues
Iag. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen:
Haue you forgot all place of sense and dutie?
Hold. The Generall speaks to you: hold for shame
Oth. Why how now hoa? From whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd Turkes? and to our selues do that
Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes.
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous Brawle:
He that stirs next, to carue for his owne rage,
Holds his soule light: He dies vpon his Motion.
Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Isle,
From her propriety. What is the matter, Masters?
Honest Iago, that lookes dead with greeuing,
Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee?
Iago. I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now.
In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome
Deuesting them for Bed: and then, but now:
(As if some Planet had vnwitted men)
Swords out, and tilting one at others breastes,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speake
Any begining to this peeuish oddes.
And would, in Action glorious, I had lost
Those legges, that brought me to a part of it
Othe. How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot?
Cas. I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake
Othe. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill:
The grauitie, and stillnesse of your youth
The world hath noted. And your name is great
In mouthes of wisest Censure. What's the matter
That you vnlace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night-brawler? Giue me answer to it
Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,
Your Officer Iago, can informe you,
While I spare speech which something now offends me.
Of all that I do know, nor know I ought
By me, that's said, or done amisse this night,
Vnlesse selfe-charitie be sometimes a vice,
And to defend our selues, it be a sinne
When violence assailes vs
Othe. Now by Heauen,
My blood begins my safer Guides to rule,
And passion (hauing my best iudgement collied)
Assaies to leade the way. If I once stir,
Or do but lift this Arme, the best of you
Shall sinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know
How this foule Rout began: Who set it on,
And he that is approu'd in this offence,
Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
Shall loose me. What in a Towne of warre,
Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare,
To Manage priuate, and domesticke Quarrell?
In night, and on the Court and Guard of safetie?
'Tis monstrous: Iago, who began't?
Mon. If partially Affin'd, or league in office,
Thou dost deliuer more, or lesse then Truth,
Thou art no Souldier
Iago. Touch me not so neere,
I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth,
Then it should do offence to Michaell Cassio.
Yet I perswade my selfe, to speake the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall:
Montano and my selfe being in speech,
There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe,
And Cassio following him with determin'd Sword
To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman,
Steppes in to Cassio, and entreats his pause:
My selfe, the crying Fellow did pursue,
Least by his clamour (as it so fell out)
The Towne might fall in fright. He, (swift of foote)
Out-ran my purpose: and I return'd then rather
For that I heard the clinke, and fall of Swords,
And Cassio high in oath: Which till to night
I nere might say before. When I came backe
(For this was briefe) I found them close together
At blow, and thrust, euen as againe they were
When you your selfe did part them.
More of this matter cannot I report,
But Men are Men: The best sometimes forget,
Though Cassio did some little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
Yet surely Cassio, I beleeue receiu'd
From him that fled, some strange Indignitie,
Which patience could not passe
Othe. I know Iago
Thy honestie, and loue doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Cassio: Cassio, I loue thee,
But neuer more be Officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona attended.
Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais'd vp:
Ile make thee an example
Des. What is the matter (Deere?)
Othe. All's well, Sweeting:
Come away to bed. Sir for your hurts,
My selfe will be your Surgeon. Lead him off:
Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
And silence those whom this vil'd brawle distracted.
Come Desdemona, 'tis the Soldiers life,
To haue their Balmy slumbers wak'd with strife.
Iago. What are you hurt Lieutenant?
Cas. I, past all Surgery
Iago. Marry Heauen forbid
Cas. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue
lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of
myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall. My Reputation,
Iago, my Reputation
Iago. As I am an honest man I had thought you had
receiued some bodily wound; there is more sence in that
then in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false
imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deseruing.
You haue lost no Reputation at all, vnlesse you
repute your selfe such a looser. What man, there are
more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are
but now cast in his moode, (a punishment more in policie,
then in malice) euen so as one would beate his offencelesse
dogge, to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to
him againe, and he's yours
Cas. I will rather sue to be despis'd, then to deceiue
so good a Commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so
indiscreet an Officer. Drunke? And speake Parrat? And
squabble? Swagger? Sweare? And discourse Fustian
with ones owne shadow? Oh thou invisible spirit of
Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call
Iago. What was he that you follow'd with your
Sword? What had he done to you?
Cas. I know not
Iago. Is't possible?
Cas. I remember a masse of things, but nothing distinctly:
a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that
men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to steale away
their Braines? that we should with ioy, pleasance,
reuell and applause, transforme our selues into Beasts
Iago. Why? But you are now well enough: how
came you thus recouered?
Cas. It hath pleas'd the diuell drunkennesse, to giue
place to the diuell wrath, one vnperfectnesse, shewes me
another to make me frankly despise my selfe
Iago. Come, you are too seuere a Moraller. As the
Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands
I could hartily wish this had not befalne: but since it is, as
it is, mend it for your owne good
Cas. I will aske him for my Place againe, he shall tell
me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible
man, by and by a Foole, and presently a Beast. Oh
strange! Euery inordinate cup is vnbless'd, and the Ingredient
is a diuell
Iago. Come, come: good wine, is a good familiar
Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclaime no more against it.
And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue