A Hall in the Castle. |
|
Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants. |
Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: |
Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, |
Not to outsport discretion. |
Cas. Iago hath direction what to do; |
But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye |
Will I look to 't. |
Oth. Iago is most honest. |
Michael, good night; to-morrow with your earliest |
Let me have speech with you. [To DESDEMONA.] Come, my dear love, |
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; |
That profit's yet to come 'twixt me and you. |
Good night. [Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants. |
|
Enter IAGO. |
Cas. Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. |
Iago. Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona, who let us not therefore blame; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her, and she is sport for Jove. |
Cas. She's a most exquisite lady. |
Iago. And, I'll warrant her, full of game. |
Cas. Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature. |
Iago. What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of provocation. |
Cas. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. |
Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? |
Cas. She is indeed perfection. |
Iago. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoup of wine, and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello. |
Cas. Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment. |
Iago. O! they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for you. |
Cas. I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more. |
Iago. What, man! 'tis a night of revels; the gallants desire it. |
Cas. Where are they? |
Iago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. |
Cas. I'll do 't; but it dislikes me. [Exit. |
Iago. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, |
With that which he hath drunk to-night already, |
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence |
As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, |
Whom love has turn'd almost the wrong side out, |
To Desdemona hath to-night carous'd |
Potations pottle deep; and he's to watch. |
Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, |
That hold their honours in a wary distance, |
The very elements of this war-like isle, |
Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, |
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, |
Am I to put our Cassio in some action |
That may offend the isle. But here they come. |
If consequence do but approve my dream, |
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. |
|
Re-enter CASSIO, with him MONTANO, and Gentlemen. Servant following with wine. |
Cas. 'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. |
Mon. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier. |
Iago. Some wine, ho! | And let me the canakin clink, clink; |
| And let me the canakin clink: |
| A soldier's a man; |
| A life's but a span; |
| Why then let a soldier drink. |
|
Some wine, boys! |
Cas. 'Fore God, an excellent song. |
Iago. I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting; your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,—drink, ho!—are nothing to your English. |
Cas. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? |
Iago. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled. |
Cas. To the health of our general! |
Mon. I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. |
Iago. O sweet England! | King Stephen was a worthy peer, |
| His breeches cost him but a crown; |
| He held them sixpence all too dear, |
| With that he call'd the tailor lown. |
| He was a wight of high renown, |
| And thou art but of low degree: |
| 'Tis pride that pulls the country down, |
| Then take thine auld cloak about thee. |
|
Some wine, ho! |
Cas. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. |
Iago. Will you hear 't again? |
Cas. No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things. Well, God's above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. |
Iago. It's true, good lieutenant. |
Cas. For mine own part,—no offence to the general, nor any man of quality,—I hope to be saved. |
Iago. And so do I too, lieutenant. |
Cas. Ay; but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to our affairs. God forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let's look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk: this is my ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left hand. I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and speak well enough. |
All. Excellent well. |
Cas. Why, very well, then; you must not think then that I am drunk. [Exit. |
Mon. To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. |
Iago. You see this fellow that is gone before; |
He is a soldier fit to stand by Cæsar |
And give direction; and do but see his vice; |
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, |
The one as long as the other; 'tis pity of him. |
I fear the trust Othello puts him in, |
On some odd time of his infirmity, |
Will shake this island. |
Mon. But is he often thus? |
Iago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: |
He'll watch the horologe a double set, |
If drink rock not his cradle. |
Mon. It were well |
The general were put in mind of it. |
Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature |
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, |
And looks not on his evils. Is not this true? |
|
Enter RODERIGO. |
Iago. [Aside to him.] How now, Roderigo! |
I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. [Exit RODERIGO. |
Mon. And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor |
Should hazard such a place as his own second |
With one of an ingraft infirmity; |
It were an honest action to say |
So to the Moor. |
Iago. Not I, for this fair island: |
I do love Cassio well, and would do much |
To cure him of this evil. But hark! what noise? [Cry within, 'Help! Help!' |
|
Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO. |
Cas. You rogue! you rascal! |
Mon. What's the matter, lieutenant? |
Cas. A knave teach me my duty! |
I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. |
Rod. Beat me! |
Cas. Dost thou prate, rogue? [Striking RODERIGO. |
Mon. [Staying him.] Nay, good lieutenant; |
I pray you, sir, hold your hand. |
Cas. Let me go, sir, |
Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. |
Mon. Come, come; you're drunk. |
Cas. Drunk! [They fight. |
Iago. [Aside to RODERIGO.] Away, I say! go out, and cry a mutiny. [Exit RODERIGO. |
Nay, good lieutenant! God's will, gentlemen! |
Help, ho! Lieutenant! sir! Montano! sir! |
Help, masters! Here's a goodly watch indeed! [Bell rings. |
Who's that that rings the bell? Diablo, ho! |
The town will rise: God's will! lieutenant, hold! |
You will be sham'd for ever. |
|
Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants. |
Oth. What is the matter here? |
Mon. 'Zounds! I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. |
Oth. Hold, for your lives! |
Iago. Hold, ho, lieutenant! Sir! Montano! gentlemen! |
Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? |
Hold! the general speaks to you; hold for shame! |
Oth. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? |
Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that |
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? |
For Christian shame put by this barbarous brawl; |
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage |
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. |
Silence that dreadful bell! it frights the isle |
From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? |
Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, |
Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. |
Iago. I do not know; friends all but now, even now, |
In quarter and in terms like bride and groom |
Devesting them for bed; and then, but now,— |
As if some planet had unwitted men,— |
Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, |
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak |
Any beginning to this peevish odds, |
And would in action glorious I had lost |
Those legs that brought me to a part of it! |
Oth. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? |
Cas. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. |
Oth. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; |
The gravity and stillness of your youth |
The world hath noted, and your name is great |
In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, |
That you unlace your reputation thus |
And spend your rich opinion for the name |
Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. |
Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger; |
Your officer, Iago, can inform you, |
While I spare speech, which something now offends me, |
Of all that I do know; nor know I aught |
By me that's said or done amiss this night, |
Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, |
And to defend ourselves it be a sin |
When violence assails us. |
Oth. Now, by heaven, |
My blood begins my safer guides to rule, |
And passion, having my best judgment collied, |
Assays to lead the way. If I once stir, |
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you |
Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know |
How this foul rout began, who set it on; |
And he that is approv'd in this offence, |
Though he had twinn'd with me—both at a birth— |
Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, |
Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, |
To manage private and domestic quarrel, |
In night, and on the court and guard of safety! |
'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began 't? |
Mon. If partially affin'd, or leagu'd in office, |
Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, |
Thou art no soldier. |
Iago. Touch me not so near; |
I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth |
Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; |
Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth |
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. |
Montano and myself being in speech, |
There comes a fellow crying out for help, |
And Cassio following with determin'd sword |
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman |
Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause; |
Myself the crying fellow did pursue, |
Lest by his clamour, as it so fell out, |
The town might fall in fright; he, swift of foot, |
Outran my purpose, and I return'd the rather |
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, |
And Cassio high in oath, which till to-night |
I ne'er might say before. When I came back,— |
For this was brief,—I found them close together, |
At blow and thrust, even as again they were |
When you yourself did part them. |
More of this matter can I not 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 believe, receiv'd |
From him that fled some strange indignity, |
Which patience could not pass. |
Oth. I know, Iago, |
Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, |
Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee; |
But never more be officer of mine. |
|
Enter DESDEMONA, attended. |
Look! if my gentle love be not rais'd up; |
[To CASSIO.] I'll make thee an example. |
Des. What's the matter? |
Oth. All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. |
Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon. |
Lead him off. [MONTANO is led off. |
Iago, look with care about the town, |
And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. |
Come, Desdemona; 'tis the soldiers' life, |
To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife. [Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO. |
Iago. What! are you hurt, lieutenant? |
Cas. Ay; past all surgery. |
Iago. Marry, heaven forbid! |
Cas. Reputation, reputation, reputation! O! I have lost my reputation. I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation! |
Iago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound; there is more offence in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What! man; there are ways to recover the general again; you are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even so as one would beat his offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he is yours. |
Cas. I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk! and speak parrot! and squabble, swagger, swear, and discourse fustian with one's own shadow! O thou invisible spirit of wine! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil! |
Iago. What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he done to you? |
Cas. I know not. |
Iago. Is 't possible? |
Cas. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God! that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains; that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts. |
Iago. Why, but you are now well enough; how came you thus recovered? |
Cas. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself. |
Iago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen, but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. |
Cas. I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. |
Iago. Come, come; good wine is a good familiar creature if it be well used; exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. |
Cas. I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! |
Iago. You or any man living may be drunk at some time, man. I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the general: I may say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune her; she'll help to put you in your place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, that she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. |
Cas. You advise me well. |
Iago. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. |
Cas. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me. I am desperate of my fortunes if they check me here. |
Iago. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I must to the watch. |
Cas. Good night, honest Iago! [Exit. |
Iago. And what's he then that says I play the villain? |
When this advice is free I give and honest, |
Probal to thinking and indeed the course |
To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy |
The inclining Desdemona to subdue |
In any honest suit; she's fram'd as fruitful |
As the free elements. And then for her |
To win the Moor, were 't to renounce his baptism, |
All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, |
His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, |
That she may make, unmake, do what she list, |
Even as her appetite shall play the god |
With his weak function. How am I then a villain |
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, |
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! |
When devils will the blackest sins put on, |
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, |
As I do now; for while this honest fool |
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes, |
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, |
I'll pour this pestilence into his ear |
That she repeals him for her body's lust; |
And, by how much she strives to do him good, |
She shall undo her credit with the Moor. |
So will I turn her virtue into pitch, |
And out of her own goodness make the net |
That shall enmesh them all. |
|
Re-enter RODERIGO. |
How now, Roderigo! |
Rod. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall have so much experience for my pains; and so, with no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. |
Iago. How poor are they that have not patience! |
What wound did ever heal but by degrees? |
Thou know'st we work by wit and not by witch-craft, |
And wit depends on dilatory time. |
Does 't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, |
And thou by that small hurt hast cashiered Cassio. |
Though other things grow fair against the sun, |
Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: |
Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; |
Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. |
Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: |
Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: |
Nay, get thee gone. [Exit RODERIGO.] Two things are to be done, |
My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; |
I'll set her on; |
Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, |
And bring him jump when he may Cassio find |
Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way: |
Dull not device by coldness and delay. [Exit. |
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