Jago. Sir, would the give you fo much of her Lips, As of her Tongue fhe oft beftows on me, You would have enough. Def. Alas! he has no Speech. Jago. In faith, too much; I find it fill, when I have lift to fleep; She puts her Tongue a little in her Heart, Amil. You have little caufe to fay fo. Jago. Come on, come on; you are Pictures out of Doors, Jago. Nay, it is true; or elfe I am a Turk, Jago. No, let me not. Def.What wouldft write of me, if thou shouldft praise me? For I am nothing, if not Critical. о Def. Come on, affay. There's one gone to the Harbour--- Def I am not merry; but I do beguile Jago. 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 Mufe labours, and thus she is delivered. If she be fair and wife, fairness and wit, The one's for ufe, the other useth it. Def. Well prais'd; how if fhe be black and witty? Fago. If he be black, and thereto have a Wit, She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. Def. Worfe and worse. Amil. How if fair and foolish! Jago. 1 Fago. She never yet was foolish that was fair, For even her Folly helpt her to an Heir. Def. These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fools laugh rth' Alehouse. What miferable Praise haft thou for her that's foul and foolish? Jago. There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, But does foul Pranks, which fair and wife ones do. Def. Oh heavy Ignorance! thou praifeft the worft beft. But what Praise couldst thou bestow on a deferving Wo man indeed? One, that in the authority of her Merit, did justly put on the vouch of very Malice it felf. Jago. She that was ever fair, and never proud, Fago. To fuckle Fools, and Chronicle small Beer. How Def. Oh most lame and impotent Conclufion. Do not learn of him, Emilia, tho' he be thy Husband. fay you, Caffio, is he not a moft profane and liberal Coun fellor? Caf. He speaks home, Madam, you may relish him more in the Soldier, than in the Scholar. Fago. Afide.] He takes her by the Palm; ay, well faidwhisper---With as little a Web as this, will I enfaare as great a Fly as Caffio. Ay, fmile upon her, do---I will gyve thee in thine own Courtship. You fay true, 'cis fo indeed---If fuch Tricks as thefe ftrip you out of your Lieutenancy, it had been better you had not kifs'd your three Fingers fo oft, which now again you are most apt to play the Sir in. Very good-well kifs'd, and excellent Curtefietis fo indeed. Yet again---your Fingers to your Lips? Would they were Clifter The Moor, I know his Trumpet. Caf. 'Tis truly fo. Def. Let's meet him, and receive him. Caf Lo, where he comes! Enter Othello, and Attendants. Otb. O my fair Warior! Def. My dear Othella. Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my Content, To fee you here before me. O my Soul's Joy! If after every Tempeft come fuch Calms, [Trumpet. May the Winds blow, 'till they have waken'd Death: As Hell's from Heav'n. If it were now to dye, Def. The Heavn's forbid, But that our Loves and Comforts fhould increafe, Oth. Amen to that, fweet Powers! I cannot speak enough of this Content, [Kiffing her. Jago. Oh you are well tun'd now; but I'll fet down the Pegs that make this Mufick, as honeft as I am. Oth. Come, let's to the Caftle. [Afide. Now, Friends, our Wars are done; the Turks are drown'd. How does my old Acquaintance in this Ifle? Honey, you shall be well defir'd in Cyprus, I have found great Love amongst them. O my Sweet, In mine own Comforts. I prethee, good Jago, Does challenge much refpect. Come, Desdemona, Once Once more well met at Cyprus. [Exeunt Othello and Defdemona. Jago. Do you meet me prefently at the Harbour. Come thither, if thou be'st valiant; as they fay, bafe Men being in Love, have then a Nobility in their Natures, more than is native to them---lift me; the Lieutenant to Night watches on the Court Guard. Firft, I must tell thee this: Def demona is directly in Love with him. Rod. With him? why, 'tis not poffible. Jago. Lay thy Fingers tus; and let thy Soul be inftru&ted. Mark me with what Violence the lov'd the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantaftical Lies. To love him ftill for prating, let not thy difcreet Heart think it. Her Eye must be fed. And what Delight fhall fhe have to look on the Devil? When the Blood is made dull with the A&t of Sport, there should be a game to inflame it, and to give fatiety a fresh Appetite; Loveliness in favour, Sympathy in Years, Manners, and Beauties: All which the Moor is defective in. Now for want of thefe requir'd Conveniences, her delicate tendernefs will find it felf abus'd, begin to heave the gorge, difrelish and abhor the Moor; very Nature will inftruct her in it, and compel her to fome fecond choice. Now, Sir, this granted, (as it is a moft pregnant and unforc'd Pofition) who ftands fo eminent in the degree of this Fortune, as Caffio does: A Knave very voluble; no further Confcionable, than in putting on the meer form of Civil and Human feeming, for the better compafs of his Salt, and moft hidden loose Affection? Why none, why none. A flippery and fubtle Knave, a finder of Occafions; that has an Eye can stamp and counterfeit Advantages, though true Advantage never prefent it felf. A Devilish Knave! befides, the Knive is handom, young, and hath all thofe Requfities in him, that folly and green Minds look after. A peftilent compleat Knave! and the Woman hath found him already. Rod. I cannot believe that in her, she's full of most bless'd Condition. Jago. Blefs'd Figs end. The Wine fhe drinks is made of Grapes. If he had been blefs'd, he would never have lov'd the Moor: Blefs'd pudding. Didft thou not fee her her paddle with the palm of is Hand? Didft not mark that? Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but Courtefie. Jago. Letchery by this Hand: An Index, and obfcure Prologue to the Hiftory of Luft, and foul Thoughts. They met fo near with their Lips, that their Breaths embrac'd together. Villanous Thoughts, Rodorigo, when these Mutabilities fo mafhal the way, hard at hand comes the Mafter, and main Exercife, th' incorporate Conclufion: 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. Caffio knows you not; I'll not be far from you. Do you find fome Occafion to anger Caffio, either by fpeaking too loud, or tainting his 'Difcipline, or from what other course you please, which the time shall more favourably minifter. Rod. Well. Jago. Sir, he's Rafh, and very fudden in Choler: And happily may ftrike at you, provoke him that he may; for even out of that will I caufe thofe of Cyprus to mutiny. Whofe Qualification fhall come into no true tafte again, but by difplanting of Caffio. So fhall you have a shorter journey to your Defires, by the means I thall then have to prefer them. And the Impediment molt profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our Prosperity. Rod. I will do this, if you can bring it to any Oppor tunity. Jago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the Cittadel. I must fetch his Neceffaries afhore. Farewel. Rod. Adieu. Jago. That Caffio loves her, I do well believe't: [Exit. For |