I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed food.

Mont. If that the Turkish fleet
Be not in shelter'd and embay'd, they're drown'd;
but is impoffible to bear it out.

Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, Lords, our wars are done: The defperate tempeft hath so bang'd the Turks, That their defignment halts. A noble ship of Venice (14) Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance On most part of the feet.

Mont. How! is this true?

3 Gent. The ship is here put in,
A Veroneffa; Michael Caffio,
Lieutenant of the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on More; the Moor himself's at fea,
And is in full commiffion here for Cyprus.

Mønt. I'm glad on't; 'tis a worthy Governor.

3 Gent. But this fame Caffia, though he speak of comfort,
Touching the Turkish lofs, yet he looks fadly,
And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempeft.

Mont. Pray heav'ns, he be:
For I have serv'd him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let's to the sea-side,
As well to see the vessel that's come in,
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,

(14) Another Ship of Venice

Hath seen a grievous wreck, &c.] But no Ship, before this, has arrived, or brought any Account of the Turkish Fleet's Diftress: How then can this be called another Ship? Oh, but the eldeft Quarto has called it so; and, if there be a various Reading, Mr. Pope is pretty good at taking the wrong one. The two elder Folio's and the Quarto in 1630 read, as I have restored to the Text;

A noble Sbit of Venice,

Ev'n till we make the main and th' aerial blue
An indiftinct regard.

Gent. Come, let's do so;
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.

Enter Caffio.
Caf. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike ife,
That fo approve the Moor: oh, let the heav'ns
Give him defence against the elements,
For I have loft him on a dangerous fea.

Mont. Is he well-shipp'd ?

Caf. His bark is toutly timber’d, and his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance;
Therefore my hopes, not furfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.

Within.) A fail, a fail, a fait!
Caf. What noise ?

Gent. The town is empty; on the brow o'th' Sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry, a Sail.

Caf. My hopes do shape him for the Governor,

Gent. They do discharge their thot of courtefy: Our friends, at least.

Caf. I pray you, Sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd.
Gent. I shall.

Mont. But, good lieutenant, is your General wiv'd?
Caf. Most fortunately, he hath atchiev'd a maid
That paragons description and wild fame :
One that excels the quirks of blaz’ning pens,
And in th' essential vesture of creation
Does bear all excellency

Enter Gentleman. How now ? who has


in ? Gent. 'Tis one lago, Ancient to the General.

Caf. H'as had most favourable and happy speed; Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds ; The gutter'd rocks, and congregated fands, (Traitors enfteep'd to clog the guitless keel:) As having fense of beauty, do omit

Their mortal natures, letting safe go by
The divine Desdemona.

Mont. What is she?

Caf. She that I'spake of, our great Captain's Captain,
Left in the conduèt of the bold lago;
Whofe footing here anticipates our thoughts,
A fe’nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard!
And swell his fail with thine own powerful breath,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,
Give renew'd fire to our extinguish'd spirits,
And bring all Cyprius comfort-

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Æmilia.
O behold!
The riches of the ship is come on shore:
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heav'n,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand
Enwheel thee round.

Def. I thank you, valiant Caffio,
What tidings can you tell me of my

Lord :
Caf. He is not yet arriv'd, nor know I aught
But that he's well, and will be Ahortly here.

Def. O, but I fear--how loft you company

Caf. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship. But, hark, a fail!

Within.) A fail, a fail!

Gent. They give this greeting to the citadel:
This likewise is a friend.

Cas. See for the news:
Good ancient, you are welcome. Welcome, mistress.

[TO Æmilia,
Let it not gall your patience, good lago,
That I extend my manners. Tis my breeding,
That gives me this bold shew of courtesy.

lago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips,
As of her tongue the oft bestows on me,
You'd have enough.
Def. Alas! she has no-speech."


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She puts

lago. In faith, too much; I find it still, when I have list to fleep; Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,


tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.

Æmil. You have little cause to say so.

lago. Come on, come on; you're pičtures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds!

Def. O, fy upon thee, slanderer!

lago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk; You rise to play, and go to bed to work.

Æmil. You shall not write my praise. lago. No, let me not. Des. What wouldft thou write of me, if thou shou’dft

praise me?
Iago. Oh gentle lady, do not put me to't,
For I am nothing, if not critical.
Des. Come, one alsay. There's one gone. to the

Iago. Ay, Madam.
Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise;
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?

lago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention comes from my pate, as birdlime does from freeze, it plucks out brains and all. But my muse labours, and thus fre is delivered.

If he be fair and wise, fairness and wit,"
The one's for use, the other useth it.
Def. Well prais'd; how if she be black and witty?
Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit,

She'll find a white that shall ber blackness fit.
Def. Worse and worse.
Æmil. How, if fair and foolish?

Iago. She never yet was foolish, that was fair;

For ev'n her folly helpt her to an heir: Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'th'alehouse. What miserable praise haft thou for her that's foul and foolish ?

Iago. There's none to foul and foolish thereunto,

But does foul pranks, which fair and wise ones do Def. Oh heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worft beft. But what praise couldit thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed ? (14) one, that in the authority of her merit, did justly put down the vouch of very malice itself? Iago. She that was ever fair, and never proud,

Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud';
Never lackt gold, and yet never went gay,
Fled from her wifh, and yet faid, now I may ;
She that when anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong ftay, and her displeasure fly;
She that in wisdom never was so frail
To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;
She that could think, and ne’er disclose her mind,
See suitors following, and not look behind;

She was a wight, (if ever fuch wight were)
Def. To do what?
lago. To fuckle fools, and chronicle small beer.
Def. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion! do not

(14) One, that in the Authoriry of ber Meril, did jusly put on the Vouch of very Malice itself. ] Though all the printed Copies agree in this Reading, I cannot help suspecting it. If the Text should be genuine, I confess, it is above my Understanding. In what Sense can Merit be said to put on the Vouch of Malice? I hould rather think, Mesit was so fafe in itself, as to repel and put off all-that Malice and Envy could advance and affirm to its Prejudice. I have ventured to reform the Text to this Construction, by a very flight Change that makes it intelligible.


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