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

Mon. What is she?

Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago ; Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts, A se'nnight's speed.-Great Jove, Othello guard, And swell his sail 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 extincted spirits, And bring all Cyprus comfort !--0, behold,

Enter Desdemona, Emilia, Iago, Roderigo, and

The riches of the ship is come on shore !
Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees :-
Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round!

Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord ?

Cas. He is not yet arriv'd; nor know I aught
But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Des. O, but I fear;-How lost you company?

Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship: But, hark! a sail.

[Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then guns heard. 2d Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel ; This likewise is a friend. Cas. See for the news.

[Exit Gentleman.

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Good ancient, you are welcome ;-Welcome, mistress :

[To Emilia Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners ; 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her.

Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You'd have enough.

Des. Alas, she has no speech.

Iago. In faith, too much ;
I find it still, when I have list to sleep:
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, ,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.

Emil. You have little cause to say so.
Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of

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. Des. O, fye upon thee, slanderer !

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

Emil. You shall not write my praise.
Iago. No, let me not.
Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou should'st

praise me?
Iago. O, gentle lady, do not put me to't ;
For I am nothing, if not critical.
Des. Come on, assay :- There's one gone to the har-


Iago. Ay, madam.

Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.-

Come, how would'st thou praise me?

Iago. I am about it: but, indeed, my invention
Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frize;
It plucks out brains and all : But my muse labours,
And thus she is deliver'd.
If she be fair and wise,-fairness, and wit,
The one's for use, the other useth it.

Des. Well prais'd! How if she be black and witty?

lago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit.

Des. Worse and worse.
Emil. How, if fair and foolish:

Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair ;
For even her folly help'd her to an heir.

Des. These are all fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i’the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish ?

Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish thereunto, But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do

Des. O heavy ignorance !--thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed? one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on 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 lack'd gold, and yet went never gay;
Fled from her wish, and yet said, --now I may;
She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,

Bade her wrong stay, 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 such wight were,-

Des. To do what?
Iago. To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.

Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion !--Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. -How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor ?

Cas. He speaks home, madam ; you may relish him more in the soldier, than in the scholar.

Iago. (Aside.] He takes her by the palm : Ay, well said, whisper: with as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do ; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true; 'tis

SO, indeed: if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy ! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips ? would, they were clyster-pipes for

-[Trumpet.] The Moor, I know his trumpet.

Cas. 'Tis truly so.
Des. Let's meet him, and receive him.
Cas. Lo, where he comes !


your sake!

Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants. Oth. O my fair warrior!


To see you

Des. My dear Othello!
Oth. It gives me wonder, great as my content,
here before me. O

O my soul's joy!
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have waken’d death!
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas,
Olympus-high; and duck again as low
As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,
My soul hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

Des. The heavens forbid,
But that our loves and comforts should increase,
Even as our days do grow !

Oth. Amen to that, sweet powers ! -
I cannot speak enough of this content,
It stops me here; it is too much of joy ;
And this, and this, the greatest discords be, [Kissing her.
That e'er our hearts shall make !

Iago. O, you are well tun'd now !
But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I

Oth. Come, let's to the castle.
News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd.
How do our old acquaintance of this isle ?-
Honey, you shall be well desir’d in Cyprus,
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comforts.— I pr’ythee, good lago,
Go to the bay, and disembark my coffers :
Bring thou the master to the citadel;


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