fpeaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, which the time fhall more favourable minifter.

Rod. Well.

lago. Sir, he's rafh, and very fudden in choler; and, happily, may ftrike at you, Provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I cause those of Cyprus to mutiny: whofe qualification fhall come into no true tafte again, but by tranfplanting of Caffio. So fhall you have a fhorter journey to your defires, by the means I fhall then have to prefer them: And the impediments moft profitably removed, without which there was no expectation of our profperity.

Rod. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.

lago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I muft fetch his neceffaries afhore. Farewel. Rod. Adieu.

lago.

SCENE VIII.
Manet Iago.

[Exit.

HAT Caffio loves her, I do well believe:
That fhe loves him,'tis apt, and of great cre

The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, [dit.
Is of a conftant, loving, noble nature;

And, I dare think, he'll prove to Desdemona

A moft dear husband. Now I love her too,
Not out of abfolute luft, (though, peradventure,
I ftand accountant for as great a fin;)

But partly led to diet my revenge,

For that I do fufpect, the lufty Moor

Hath leapt into my feat. The thought whereof
Doth, like a poifonous mineral, gnaw my inwards,
And nothing can, or fhall, content my foul,
'Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife :
Or failing fo, yet that I put the Moor

At last into a jealousy so strong,

That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to de
If this poor brach of Venice, whom I cherish
For his quick hunting, ftand the putting on,
I'll have our Michael Caffio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb;
(For I fear Caffio with my night-cap too.)

Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me,
For making him egregioufly an afs;

And practiling upon his peace and quiet,

Even to madnefs. 'Tis here-but yet confus'd; Knavery's plain face is never feen, till us'd. [Exit.

IT

Enter Herald with a Proclamation.

Her. TT is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant General, that upon certain tidings now arriv'd, importing the mere perdition of the Turkish flet, every man put himself into triumph: some to dance, fome to make bonfires, each man to what fport and revels his mind leads him. For, besides this beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptials. So much was his pleasure, fhould be proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full liberty of feafting, from this prefent hour of five, 'till the bell have told eleven. Blefs the ifle of Cyprus, and our noble General Othello!

Enter Othello, Defdemona, Caffio, and Attendants. Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night, Let's teach ourselves that honourable top,

Not to out-fport discretion.

Caf. Iago hath direction what to do:
But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
Will I look to't.

Oth. Iago is most honeft:

Michael, good-night. To-morrow, with your carliest,
Let me have fpeech with you. Come, my dear love,.
The purchase made, the fruits are to enfue;

That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
Good night.

[Exeunt Othello and Defdemona.

Enter Iago.

Caf. Welcome, Iago; we muft to the Watch..

lago. Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o'th' clock. Our General caft us thus early for the love of his Defdemona: whom let us not therefore blame; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and he is fport for Jove.

Caf. She's a moft exquifite lady.

Iago. And, I'll warrant her, full of game.

Caf. Indeed, the's a most fresh and delicate creature. Iago. What an eye fhe has? methinks, it founds a parley to provocation.

Caf. An inviting eye; and yet, methinks, right modeft.

Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love?

Caf. She is, indeed, perfection..

Iaga. Well, happinefs to their fheets: come lieutenant, I have a floop of wine, and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants, that would fain have a measure to the health of the black Othello.

Caf. Not to-night, good Iago; I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking. Lcould well wish, courtefy would invent fome other cuftom of entertainment.

Iago. Oh, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for you.

Caf. I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was craftily qualified too: and, behold, what innovation it makes here. I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not talk my weakness with any more.

Tago. What, man? 'tis a night of revels, the gallants defire it.

Caf. Where are they?

Iago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. Caf. I'll do't, but it diflikes me. [Exit Caffio. lago. If I can faften but one cup upon him,

With that which he hath drunk to-night already,
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence,
As my young miftrefs' dog:-

Now, my fick fool, Rodorigo,

Whom love bath turn'd almoft the wrong fide out, To Defdemona hath to-night carouz'd

Potations pottle deep; and he's to watch. Three lads of Cyprus, noble fwelling fpirits, (That hold their honours in a wary distance, The very elements of this warlike ifle,) Have I to-night flufter'd with flowing cups, And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,

Am I to put our Caffio in fome action

That may offend the ille. But here they come.
If confequence do but approve my Deem,
My boat fails freely, both with wind and ftream.

SCENE X.

Enter Caffio, Montano, and gentlemen.

'FORE
ORE heav'n, they have given me a rouse

Caf. 'F already.

Mont. Good faith, a little one; not paft a pint, as

I am foldier.

Iago. Some wine, ho!

And let me the canakin clink, clink,

And let me the canakin clink.

[Iago fings.

A foldier's a man; oh, man's life's but a span;

Why, then let a foldier drink.

Some wine, boys.

Caf.

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 fill'd.

Caf. To the health of our General.

Mont. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you juftice.
Iago. Oh fweet England.

King Stephen was an a worthy peer,
His breeches coft him but a crown;
He held them fix pence 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!

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 muft not be faved.

Iago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Caf. For mine own part, (no offence to the General, nor any man of quality ;) I hope to be saved. Iago. And fo do I too, lieutenant.

Caf. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The Lieutenant is to be faved before the Ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to our affairs.