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

I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. Exit Roderigo.

MONTANO. And ‘tis great pity that the noble Moor Should hazard such a place as his own second With one of an ingraft infirmity.

It were an honest action to say

So to the Moor.

IAGO. Not I, for this fair island.

I do love Cassio well, and would do much To cure him of this evil-But, hark! What noise?

A cry within, “Help, help!”

Re-enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo.

CASSIO. ‘Zounds! You rogue! You rascal!

MONTANO. What’s the matter, lieutenant?

CASSIO. A knave teach me my duty! But I’ll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.

RODERIGO. Beat me!

CASSIO. Dost thou prate, rogue? Strikes Roderigo.

MONTANO. Nay, good lieutenant; I pray you, sir, hold your hand.

CASSIO. Let me go, sir, or I’ll knock you o’er the mazzard.

MONTANO. Come, come, you’re drunk.

CASSIO. Drunk? They fight.

IAGO. [Aside to Roderigo.] Away, I say; go out and cry a mutiny.

Exit Roderigo.

Nay, good lieutenant! God’s will, gentlemen!

Help, ho!- Lieutenant-sir- Montano-sir-Help, masters!- Here’s a goodly watch indeed!

A bell rings.

Who’s that that rings the bell?- Diablo, ho!

The town will rise. God’s will, lieutenant, hold!

You will be shamed forever.

Re-enter Othello and Attendants.

OTHELLO. What is the matter here?

MONTANO. ‘Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death.

Faints.

OTHELLO. Hold, for your lives!

IAGO. Hold, ho! Lieutenant-sir- Montano-gentlemen-Have you forgot all place of sense and duty?

Hold! the general speaks to you! Hold, hold, for shame!

OTHELLO. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?

Are we turn’d Turks, and to ourselves do that Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?

For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl.

He that stirs next to carve for his own rage Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.

Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the isle From her propriety. What is the matter, masters?

Honest Iago, that look’st dead with grieving, Speak: who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.

IAGO. I do not know. Friends all but now, even now, In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom Devesting them for bed; and then, but now (As if some planet had unwitted men), Swords out, and tilting one at other’s breast, In opposition bloody. I cannot speak

Any beginning to this peevish odds;

And would in action glorious I had lost Those legs that brought me to a part of it!

OTHELLO. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?

CASSIO. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.

OTHELLO. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; The gravity and stillness of your youth The world hath noted, and your name is great In mouths of wisest 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.

MONTANO. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger.

Your officer, Iago, can inform you—

While I spare speech, which something now offends me-Of all that I do know. Nor know I aught By me that’s said or done amiss this night, Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, And to defend ourselves it be a sin

When violence assails us.

OTHELLO. Now, by heaven, My blood begins my safer guides to rule, And passion, having my best judgement collied, Assays to lead the way. If I once stir, Or do but lift this arm, the best of you Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know How this foul rout began, who set it on, And he that is approved in this offense, Though he had twinn’d with me, both at a birth, Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, Yet wild, the people’s hearts brimful of fear, To manage private and domestic quarrel, In night, and on the court and guard of safety!

‘Tis monstrous. Iago, who began’t?

MONTANO. If partially affined, or leagued in office, Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, Thou art no soldier.

IAGO. Touch me not so near: I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth Than it should do offense to Michael Cassio; Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general.

Montano and myself being in speech,

There comes a fellow crying out for help, And Cassio following him with determined sword, To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause.

Myself the crying fellow did pursue,

Lest by his clamor-as it so fell outThe town might fall in fright. He, swift of foot, Outran my purpose; and I return’d the rather For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, And Cassio high in oath, which till tonight I ne’er might say before. When I came back-For this was brief-I found them close together, At blow and thrust, even as again they were When you yourself did part them.

More of this matter cannot I report.

But men are men; the best sometimes forget.

Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, As men in rage strike those that wish them best, Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received From him that fled some strange indignity, Which patience could not pass.

OTHELLO. I know, Iago, Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee, But never more be officer of mine.

Re-enter Desdemona, attended.

Look, if my gentle love be not raised up!

I’ll make thee an example.

DESDEMONA. What’s the matter?

OTHELLO. All’s well now, sweeting; come away to bed.

Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon.

Lead him off. Exit Montano, attended.

Iago, 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 waked with strife.

Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio.

IAGO. What, are you hurt, lieutenant?

CASSIO. Ay, past all surgery.

IAGO. Marry, heaven forbid!

CASSIO. Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation!

IAGO. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! there are ways to recover the general again. You are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even so as one would beat his offenseless dog to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he’s yours.

CASSIO. I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear?

and discourse fustian with one’s own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!

IAGO. What was he that you followed with your sword?

What had he done to you?

CASSIO. I know not.

IAGO. Is’t possible?

CASSIO. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

IAGO. Why, but you are now well enough. How came you thus recovered?

CASSIO. It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the devil wrath: one unperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself.

IAGO. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

CASSIO. I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest, and the ingredient is a devil.

IAGO. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used. Exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you.

CASSIO. I have well approved it, sir. I drunk!

IAGO. You or any man living may be drunk at some time, man. I’ll tell you what you shall do. Our general’s wife is now the general. I may say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and graces. Confess yourself freely to her; importune her help to put you in your place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.

CASSIO. You advise me well.

IAGO. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness.

CASSIO. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me. I am desperate of my fortunes if they check me here.

IAGO. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant, I must to the watch.

CASSIO. Good night, honest Iago. Exit.

IAGO. And what’s he then that says I play the villain?

When this advice is free I give and honest, Probal to thinking, and indeed the course To win the Moor again? For ‘tis most easy The inclining Desdemona to subdue

In any honest suit. She’s framed as fruitful As the free elements. And then for her To win the Moor, were’t to renounce his baptism, All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, His soul is so enfetter’d to her love, That she may make, unmake, do what she list, Even as her appetite shall play the god With his weak function. How am I then a villain To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!

When devils will the blackest sins put on, They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, As I do now. For whiles this honest fool Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune, And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, I’ll pour this pestilence into his ear, That she repeals him for her body’s lust; And by how much she strives to do him good, She shall undo her credit with the Moor.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

Enter Roderigo.

How now, Roderigo!

RODERIGO. I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost spent; I have been tonight exceedingly well cudgeled; and I think the issue will be, I shall have so much experience for my pains; and so, with no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice.

IAGO. How poor are they that have not patience!

What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

Thou know’st we work by wit and not by witchcraft, And wit depends on dilatory time.

Does’t not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, And thou by that small hurt hast cashier’d Cassio.

Though other things grow fair against the sun, Yet fruits that blossom first will first