Mon. I bleed ftill, I am hurt, but not to th' Death. Jago. Hold ho! Lieutenant---Sir-Montano---Gentlemen-.. As if fome Pianet had unwitted Men, Oth. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? The World hath noted. And And spend your rich Opinion, for the Name. Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to Danger; Your Officer, Jago, can inform you, While I fpare Speech, with fomething now offends me. By me that's faid or done amifs this Night, And to defend our felves it be a Sin, When When Violence affails us. Oth. Now, by Heav'n, My Blood begins my fafer Guides to rule, Mon. If partially affin'd, or league in Office, Jago. Touch me not fo near; I had rather have this Tongue cut from my Mouth, My felf the crying Fellow did pursue, The Town might fall in fright. He, fwift of Foot, The' Tho' Caffio did fome little wrong to him, As Men in rage, strike those that with them beft, From him that fled, fome ftrange indignity, Oth. I know, Jazo, Thy honefty and love doth mince this Matter, Enter Defdemona attended. Look if my gentle Love be not rais'd up: Def. What's the matter, Dear? Oth. All's well, Sweeting; Come, away to Bed. Sir, for your hurts, My felf will be your Surgeon. Lead him off: And filence thofe whom this vile brawl diftracted. 7 To have their balmy Slumbers wak'd with Strife. [Exeunt. Caf. Ay, paft all Surgery. Jago. Marry, Heav'n forbid. Caf. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation! Oh I have loft my Reputation! I have loft the immortal part of my felf, and what remains is beftial. My Reputation, Fago, my Reputation. Jago. As I am an honeft Man, I had thought you had receiv'd fome bodily wound; there is more Senfe in that than in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and moft falfe Impofition; oft got without merit, and loft without des ferving. You have loft no Reputation at all, unless you repute your felf fuch a lofer. What Manthere are more ways to recover the General again. You are but now caft in his Mood, a punishment more in Policy, than in Malice, even fo as one would beat his offencelets Dog to affright an imperious Lion, Sue to him again, and he's yourse Caf Caf. I will rather fue to be defpis'd, than to deceive fo good a Commander, with fo flight, fo drunken, and fo indifcreet an Officer. Drunk? and fpeak, Parrot? And fquabble? Swagger? Swear? And difcourfe Fuftian with ones own Shadow? O thou invifible Spirit of Wine! if thou haft no Name to be known by, let us call thee Devil. Jago. What was he that you follow'd with your Sword? what had he done to you? Caf. I know not. Jago. Is't poffible? Caf. I remember a Mafs of things, but nothing diftin&tly: 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 felvcs into Beafts. 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 unperfectnefs fhews me another, to make me frankly defpife my felf. Jago. Come, you are too fevere a Moraller. As the Time, the Place, and the Condition of this Country ftands, I could heartily with this had not befaln: But fince it is, as it is, mend it for your own Good. Caf. I will ask him for my Place again, he fhall tell me, I am a Drunkard? Had I as many Mouths as Hydra, fuch an answer would stop them all. To be now a fenfible Man, by and by a Fool, and prefently a Beast. Oh ftrange! Every inordinate Cup is unbless'd, and the Ingredient is a Devil. Jago. Come, come, good Wine is a good familiar Creature, if it be well us'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 any 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 fay fo, in this refpec, for that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the Contemplation, templation, mark, and Devotement of her Parts and Graces. Confefs your felf freely to her: Importune her help, to put you in your Place again. She is of fo free, fo kind, fo apt, fa bleffed a Difpofition, the holds it a Vice in her Goodness, not to do more than fhe is requested. This broken Joint between you and her Husband, intreat her to fplinter. And my Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your Love, fhall grow ftronger than it was before, Caf. You advise me well. Fago, I proteft in the fincerity of Love, and honeft Kindness. Caf. I think it freely: And betimes in the Morning, I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: I am defperate of my Fortunes if they check me. Jaga. You are in the right: Good Night, Lieutenant, I muft to the Watch. Caf. Good Night, honeft Jago. In any honeft Suit. She's fram'd as fruitful To win the Moor, were't to renounce his Baptifm, All Seals and Symbols of redeemed Sin, His Soul is fo enfetter'd to her Love, That fhe may make, unmake, do what the lift, Even as her Appetite fhall play the God With his weak Function. How am I then a Villain, Directly to his good? Divinity of Hell, L14 And |