The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

The lieutenant tonight watches on the court of guard. First, I must tell thee this: Desdemona is directly in love with him.

RODERIGO. 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 favor, sympathy in years, manners, and beauties-all which the Moor is defective in. Now, for want of these required 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 compass of his salt and most hidden loose affection? Why, none, why, none-a slipper 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.

RODERIGO. I cannot believe that in her; she’s full of most blest condition.

IAGO. Blest fig’s-end! The wine she drinks is made of grapes. If she had been blest, she would never have loved the Moor. Blest pudding! Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of his hand?

Didst not mark that?

RODERIGO. Yes, that I did; but that 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 tonight; for the command, I’ll lay’t upon you.

Cassio knows you not. I’ll not be far from you. Do you 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 favorably minister.

RODERIGO. Well.

IAGO. Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply 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.

RODERIGO. 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.

RODERIGO. Adieu. Exit.

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’d with him, wife for wife.

Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong

That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trace 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 (For I fear Cassio with my nightcap too), Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me For making him egregiously an ass

And practicing upon his peace and quiet Even to madness. ‘Tis here, but yet confused: Knavery’s plain face is never seen till used. Exit.

SCENE II.

A street.

Enter a Herald with a proclamation; people following.

HERALD. 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 nuptial. 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 have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A hall in the castle.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.

OTHELLO. Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight.

Let’s teach ourselves that honorable stop, Not to outsport discretion.

CASSIO. Iago hath direction what to do; But notwithstanding with my personal eye Will I look to’t.

OTHELLO. Iago is most honest.

Michael, good night. Tomorrow with your earliest Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love, The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; That profit’s yet to come ‘tween me and you.

Good night.

Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.

Enter Iago.

CASSIO. Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch.

IAGO. Not this hour, lieutenant; ‘tis not yet ten o’ the clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame. He hath not yet made wanton the night with her, and she is sport for Jove.

CASSIO. She’s a most exquisite lady.

IAGO. And, I’ll warrant her, full of game.

CASSIO. Indeed she’s a most fresh and delicate creature.

IAGO. What an eye she has! Methinks it sounds a parley to provocation.

CASSIO. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.

IAGO. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?

CASSIO. She is indeed perfection.

IAGO. Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stope of wine, and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello.

CASSIO. Not tonight, good Iago. I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking. I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

IAGO. O, they are our friends! But one cup; I’ll drink for you.

CASSIO. I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified too, and behold what innovation it makes here. I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more.

IAGO. What, man! ‘Tis a night of revels, the gallants desire it.

CASSIO. Where are they?

IAGO. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.

CASSIO. I’ll do’t, but it dislikes me. Exit.

IAGO. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, With that which he hath drunk tonight already, He’ll be as full of quarrel and offense As my young mistress’ dog. Now my sick fool Roderigo, Whom love hath turn’d almost the wrong side out, To Desdemona hath tonight caroused

Potations pottle-deep; and he’s to watch.

Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, That hold their honors in a wary distance, The very elements of this warlike isle, Have I tonight fluster’d with flowing cups, And they watch too. Now, ‘mongst this flock of drunkards, Am I to put our Cassio in some action That may offend the isle. But here they come.

If consequence do but approve my dream, My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.

Re-enter Cassio; with him Montano and Gentlemen; Servants following with wine.

CASSIO. ‘Fore God, they have given me a rouse already.

MONTANO. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.

IAGO. Some wine, ho!

[Sings.] “And let me the canakin clink, clink; And let me the canakin clink.

A soldier’s a man;

O, man’s life’s but a span; Why then let a soldier drink.”

Some wine, boys!

CASSIO. ‘Fore God, an excellent song.

IAGO. I learned it in England, where indeed they are most potent in potting. Your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander-Drink, ho!- are nothing to your English.

CASSIO. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?

IAGO. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.

CASSIO. To the health of our general!

MONTANO. I am for it, lieutenant, and I’ll do you justice.

IAGO. O sweet England!

[Sings.] “King Stephen was and-a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he call’d the tailor lown.

“He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree.

‘Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee.”

Some wine, ho!

CASSIO. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.

IAGO. Will you hear’t again?

CASSIO. No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things. Well, God’s above all, and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.

IAGO. It’s true, good lieutenant.

CASSIO. For mine own part-no offense to the general, nor any man of quality-I hope to be saved.

IAGO. And so do I too, lieutenant.

CASSIO. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let’s have no more of this; let’s to our affairs. God forgive us our sins! Gentlemen, let’s look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk: this is my ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and I speak well enough.

ALL. Excellent well.

CASSIO. Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. Exit.

MONTANO. To the platform, masters; come, let’s set the watch.

IAGO. You see this fellow that is gone before; He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar And give direction. And do but see his vice; ‘Tis to his virtue a just equinox,

The one as long as the other. ‘Tis pity of him.

I fear the trust Othello puts him in

On some odd time of his infirmity

Will shake this island.

MONTANO. But is he often thus?

IAGO. ‘Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep.

He’ll watch the horologe a double set, If drink rock not his cradle.

MONTANO. It were well The general were put in mind of it.

Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio And looks not on his evils. Is not this true?

Enter Roderigo.