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Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt, but not to th' Death.
Oth. Hold for your Lives.
Jago. Hold ho! Lieutenant---Sir---Mortano.-- Gentlemen...
Have you forgot all place of Sense and Duty ?
Hold. The General speaks to you hold for (hame-
Oth. Why how now ho? From whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd Turks and to our felves do that
Which Heav'n hath forbid the Ottomites.
For Christian Thame, put by this barbarous Brawl ;
He that stirs next to carve for his own Rage,
Holds his Soul light : He dits upon his Motion,
Silence that dreadful Bell, it frights the Ille
From her prropriety. What is the matter, Masters?
Honest Jago, that looks dead with grieving,
Speak : Who began this? On thy Love I charge chee.
Jago. I do not know ; Friends all, but now, even row
In Quarter, and in terms like Bride and Groom
Divesting them for Bed; and then, but now
As if some Pianet had unwitted Men,
Sword out, and tilting one at other's Breasts,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speak
Any beginning to this peevith odds.
And would in A&tion glorious, I had lost
Those Legs that brought me to a part of it.
Orh. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
Caf. I pray you pardon me, I cannot speak.
Oth. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be civil:
The gravity and stillness of your Youth,
The World hath nored. And
And your Name is
Name is great
In Mouths of wiseft 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, Fago, can inform you,
While I spare Speech, with something now offends me.
Of all that I do koow, nor know I ought,
By me that's laid or done amiss this Night,
Unless Self charity be sometimes a Vice,
And to defend our felves it be a Sin,
When Violence afails us.
Oih. Now, by Heav'i,
My Blond begins my fafer Guides to rule,
And Pallion, having my best Judgment choler'd,
Aflays to lead the way. If I once ftir,
Or do but lift this Arm, the best of you
Shili Gink in my Rebuke. Give me to know
How this foul Rout began? Who set it on ?
And he that is approv'd in his Offence,
Tho' he had twin'd with me, both ar á Birth,
Shall loose me. What in a Town of War,
Yet wild, the Peoples Hearts brim-full of fear,
To manage private and domestick Quarrel?
In Night, and on the Court and Guard of safety?
'Tis monstrous. Jago, who began't?
Mon. If partially affin'd, or league in Office,
Thou dost deliver more or less than Truth,
Thou art no Soldier.
Jago. Touch me not so near ;
I had rather have this Tongue cut from my Mouth,
Than it should do offence to Michael Callio.
Yet I perswade my felf, to speak so the Truth
Shail nothing wrong him. This it is, General:
Montano and my self being in Speech,
There comes a Fellow, crying out for help,
And Cassio following him with determin'd Sword,
To execute upon him. Sir, this Gentleman
Steps into Cassio, and intreats his pause;
My self the crying Fellow did pursur,
Leit by his Clamour, as it so fell out,
The Town might fall in fright. He, swist of Foot,
Out-ran my purpose : And I return'd the rather
For that I heard the clink, and fall of Swords,
And Cassio high in Oth; which 'till 10 Night
I ne'er miglit say before. When I came back,
For this was brief, I found ihim close together.
At blow, and thrust, even as again they were
When you your self did part them.
More of this master cannot I report,
Bat Men are Men ; the best fometimes forgce;
Tho’ Callio did some little wrong to him,
As Men in rage, strike those that wilh them best,
Yet surely Cassio, I believe, receiv'd
From him that fled, fome strange indignity,
Which Patience could not país.
Oth. I know, Jago,
Thy honesty and love doth mince this Matrer,
Making it light to Cassio : Cassio, I love thes,
But never more be Officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona attended.
Look if my gentle Love be not rais’d up :
I'll make thee an Example.
Der. What's the matter, Dear ?
Oth. All's well, Sweeting;
Come, away to Bed. Sir, for your hurts,
My self will be your Surgeon. Lead him off :
Fago, 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.
Manent Jago and C..
Jago. What, are you hurt, Lieutenaat?
Caf. Ay, paft all Surgery:
Jago. M.rry, Heav'n forbid.
Caf. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation ! Oh I have lost my Reputation! I have lost the immortal part of my felf, and what remains is bestial. My Répuration, Fago, my Reputation
Jago. As I am an honest Man, I had thought you had receiv'd some bodily wound ; there is more Senfi in that than in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most falle Imposition ; oft got without merit, and lost without des serying. You have loft no Reputation" at all, unless
you repute your self such a loser. What Manthere are more ways to recover the General again. You are but now cast in his Mocd, a punilhment more in Policy, than ir Malice, even so as one would beat his offencelets Dog to affright an imperious Lion, Sue to him again,' and he's yourse
Cas. I will rather fue to be despis'd, than to deceive so good a Commander, with fo Night, so drurken, and so indiscreet an Officer. Drunk and speak, Parrot ? And squabble? Swagger ? Swear? Ad discourft Fustian with ones own Shadow? O thou invisible Spirit of Wine! if thou hast no Name to be known by, let us call thee Deyil, Jago. What was he that
follow'd with your Sword? what had he done to you?
Caf. I know not.
Jago. Is't possible?
Caf. I remember a Mafs of things, but notbing diftin&ly: A Quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that Men should put an Enemy in their Mouths, to steal away their Brains ? That we should with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, transform our felves into Beasts.
Jago. Why, but you are now well enough: How came you thus recover'd ?
Caf. It bath pleas’d the Devil, Drunkenness, to give place to the Devil, Wrath; one unperfe&tness thews me another, to make me frankly despise my
self. Jago. Come, you are too severe a Moraller. As the Time, the Place, and the Condition of this Country stands, I could heartily with this had not befaln: But since it is, as it is, mend it for your own Good.
Car. I will ask him for my Place again, he shall tell me, I am a Druokard? Had I as many Mouths as Hydra, such an answer would lop them all. To he now a sensible Man, by and by a Fool, and presently a Beast. Oh strange! Every inordinate Cup is unbless'd, and the Ingredient is a Devil.
7 ago. Come, come, good Wine is a good familiar Creature, if it be well as'd: Exclaim no more against it. And, good Lieutenant, I think, you think I love you.
Caf. I have well approv'd it, Sir. I drunk ! Jago. You, or apy Man living, may be drunk at a time, Man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General's Wife is now the General.
I may say so, in this refpe&, for that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the Con
templation, mark, and Devotement of her Parts and Graces. Confess your self freely to her: Importune her help, to put you in your Place again. She is of fo free, lo kind, fo apt, sa blefied a Disposition, the holds it a Vice in her Goodness, not to do more than she is requested. This broken Joint between you and her Husband, intreat her to splinter. And my Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your Love, shall grow ttronger than it was before
Caf, You advise me well.
Faga, I proteft in the fincerity of Love, and honest Kindness.
Caf. I think it freely. And betimes in the Morning, I wil beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me.
Jage. You are in the right: Good Night, Lieutenant, I
must to the Watch.
Caf. Good Night, honest Jago.
Jago. And what's he then, that says I play the Villain
When this advice is free I give, and honest,
Probable to thinking, and indeed the course
To win the Moor again. For 'tis most casie,
Th'inclining Desdemona to subduie
In any honeft Suit. She's fram'd as fruitful
As the free Elemenis. And then for her
To win the Moor, were't to renounce his Baptism,
All Seals and Symbols of redeemed Sin,
His Soul is lo enfetter'd to her Love,
That the may make, unmake, do what she lift,
Even as her Appetite shall play the God
With his weak Fundion. How am I then a Villain,
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course,
Dire&ly to his good? Divinity of Hell,
When Devils will their blackest Sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heav'nly Shews,
As I do now. For while this honeft Fool
Plies Desdemona, to repair his Fortune,
And the for him, pleads strongly to the Moor,
I'll pour this Pestilence into his Ear:
That the repeals him, for her Body's Lust,