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He is a good one, and his worthiness
[Ereunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants. Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. If thou be'st valiant, as (they say) base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them,- list me. The lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard:-First, I must tell thee this-Desdemona is directly in love with him.
Rod. With him! why, 'tis not possible.
Iago. Lay thy finger-thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical lies: And will she love him still for prating? let not thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; and what delight shall she have to look on the devil ? When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be,-again to inflame it, and to give satiety a fresh appetite,-loveliness in favour; sympathy in years, manners, and beauties; all which the Moor is defective in : Now, for want of these acquired conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will instruct her in it, and compel her to some second choice. Now, sir, this granted, (as it is a most pregnant and unforced position,) who stands so eminently in the degree of this fortune, as Cassio does? a knave very voluble; no further conscionable, than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden
loose affection ? why, none; why, none: A slippery and subtle knave; a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself: A devilish knave! besides, the knave is handsome, young; and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and green minds look after: A pestilent complete knave; and the woman hath found him already.
Rod. I cannot believe that in her; she is full of most blessed condition.
Iago. Blessed fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes : if she had been blessed, she would never have loved the Moor: Blessed pudding ! Didst thou, not see her paddle with the palm of his hand ? didst not mark that?
Rod. Yes, that I did; but this was but courtesy.
Iago. Lechery, by this hand ; an index, and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their lips, that their breaths embraced together. Villainous thoughts, Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclusion: Pish !-But, sir, be you ruled by me: I have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; for the cominand, I'll lay't upon you: Cassio knows you not;-I'll not be far from
find some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what other course you please, which the time shall more favourably minister.
Iago. Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler; and, haply, with his truncheon may strike at you: Provoke
him, that he may : for, even out of that, will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true taste again, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires, by the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity.
Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity.
Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel : I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. Rod. Adieu.
[Erit. Iago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; That she loves him, 'tis apt, and of great credit: The Moor-howbeit that I endure him not, Is of a constant, loving, noble nature; And, I dare think, he'll prove to Desdemona A most dear husband. Now I do love her too; Not out of absolute lust, (though, peradventure, I stand accountant for as great a sin,) But partly led to diet my revenge, For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leap'd into my seat: the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards ; And nothing can or shall content my soul, Till I am even with him, wife for wife; Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip;
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb,
SCENE II.-A Street.
Enter a Herald with a proclamation ; People following.
Her. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and revels his addiction leads him; for, besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptials : So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open ; and there is full liberty of feasting, from this present hour of five, till the bell hath told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus, and our noble general, Othello!
SCENE III.-A Hall in the Castle.
Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, Cassio, and Attendants.
Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night:
Cas. Iago hath direction what to do;
Oth. Iago is most honest.
[To DESDEMONA. That profit's yet to come 'twixt me and you.
.“ Good night.
[Exeunt Oth. Des. and Attend.
Iago. Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o'clock: Our general cast us thus early, for the love of his Desdemona; whom let us not therefore blame; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and she is sport for Jove.
Cas. She's a most exquisite lady.
Iago. What an eye she has ! methinks it sounds a parley of provocation.
Cas. An inviting eye; and yet, methinks, right mo dest.
Iago. And, when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love?
Cas. She is, indeed, perfection.
Iago. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoop of wine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants, that would fain have a measure to the health of the black Othello.