SCEN EA XIM40 .ogal Suedas-2 Caf. 'Fore heav'n, they have given me roufe al ready. Mont. Good faith, a little one. Not past a pint, as I am a foldier. Jago. Some wine, hood [lago fings. A foldier's a man; oh, man's life's but anfpango Some wine, boys. Caf. 'Fore heav'n, an excellent fong. Iago. I learn'd it in England: where, indeed, they are most potent in potting. Your Dane, your German and your fwag-belly'd Hollander, Drink, ho are nothing to your English. Caf. Is your Englishman fo exquifite in his drinking? Iago. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk; he fweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle can be filla. Caf. To the health of our General. copies concur in this reading, If confequence do but approve my i.e. my opinion, the judgment Cref. I true? how now? what Mon. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you justice. 4 7 King Stephen was an a worthy peer, is He held them fix-pence all too dear, es Jaig's fig cold, are puis Some wine, ho! Caf. Why, this is a more exquifite fong than the other. Iago. Will you hear't again? Caf. No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place, that does thofe things. Well-Heaven's above all; and there be fouls that must be saved, and there be fouls must not be faved. dago. It's true, good lieutenant. ་ Caf. For mine own part, no offence to the General, nor any man of quality; I hope to be faved. ylago. And fo I do too, lieutenant. Let's Caf. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The Lieutenant is to be faved before the Ancient. have no more of this. Let's to our affairs. Forgive our fins. Gentlemen, let's look to our bufinefs. 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 fpeak well enough. -King Stephen, &c.] Thefe flanzas are taken from an old fong, which the reader will find recovered and preferved in a curious work lately printed, in tituled, Relics of Ancient Poetry, confifting of old hercic Ballads, Songs, &c. 3 vols. 12mo. 5lown Sorry fellow, paltry wretch. Bb 3 Gent. Gent. Excellent well. Caf. Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. L SCEN E XII. [Exit. Mont. To the platform, mafters. Come, let's fet the Watch. Iago. You fee this fellow, that is gone before? He is a foldier fit to ftand by Cafar, And give direction. And do but fee his vice 'Tis to his virtues a juft equinox, The one as long as th' other. 'Tis pity of him; Will fhake this island. Mont. But is he often thus ? Iago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his fleep. If drink rock not his cradle. Mont. It were well, The General were put in mind of it: Perhaps, he fees it not; or his good nature And looks not on his evils. Is not this true? Enter Rodorigo. Iago. How now, Rodorigo! 6 He'll watch the horologue a double fet.] If he have no drink, he'll keep awake while [Exit Rod. the clock ftrikes two rounds, or four and twenty hours. Mont Mont. And 'tis great pity, that the noble Moor Should hazard fuch a place as his own Second, With one of an ingraft infirmity; 7 It were an honeft action to fay fo Iago. Not I, for this fair island. I do love Caffio well, and would do much To cure him of this evil. Hark, what noife? [Within, help! help! Re-enter Caffio, pursuing Rodorigo. Caf. You rogue! you rafcal! Mont. What's the matter, lieutenant ? Caf. A knave teach me my duty! I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. Rod. Beat me Caf. Doft thou prate, rogue ? I pray you, Sir, hold your hand. Caf. Let me go, Sir, or I'll knock mazzard. Mont. Come, come, you're drunk, Caf. Drunk? [Staying him. you o'er the [They fight. Iago. Away, I fay, go out and cry a mutiny. Nay, good Lieutenant-Alas, Gentlemen [Bell rings. The town will rife. Fy, fy, Lientenant! hold. You will be fham'd for ever. 7-ingraft infirmity:] An infirmity rooted, fettled in his confti tution. I SCENE XIII. ALSO Enter Othello, and Attendants,arvaig adī AT op fican bloW Oth. What is the matter, here? fiat to strom al Mont. I bleed ftill: I am hurt to the death. T Oth. Hold, for your lives. La ba Hold, ho! lieutenant-SirMontano Iago. Gentlemen 8 OzatioW NOM Have you forgot all fenfe of place and duty TOY The General speaks to you. Hold, hold, for fhame-w Oth. Why, how now, ho? From whence arifeth this? v't om v¶ Are we turn'd Turks? and to ourselves do that, Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?bot br For chriftian fhame, put by this barbarous brawl; He, that stirs next to carve for his own rage, 110 Holds his foul light: he dies upon his motion. 1/ Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the inle From her propriety. What is the matter? Honeft Iago, that looks dead with grieving, Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. Iago. I do not know. Friends all, but now, event now ין In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom 8 So Hanmer. The ref, her regular and proper fiate. Qtb. |