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• 1 2015-04-14T19:24:15-07:00 Act II 6 Othello split 2015-05-20T10:39:11-07:00 Actus Secundus. Scena Prima. 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. Enter Cassio. 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. Enter. 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. Enter Gentleman. 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. Oh behold, 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 Beds 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 praise me? 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 is deliuer'd. 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 selfe 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 Counsailor? 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 sake. 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 bless'd condition 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 marke that? 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 Rodo. Adieu. Enter. Enter. Scena Secunda. 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. 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. Goodnight. Enter. Enter Iago. 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 desire it Cas. Where are they? Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in Cas. Ile do't, but it dislikes me. Enter. 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 Souldier 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. Enter. Monta. To th' Platforme (Masters) come, let's set the Watch 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? Enter Rodorigo. 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 Cassio. 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. Enter. 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 thee Diuell 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 you o. Exit Cassio. Enter.