 | The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scena Prima.
Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.Mon.
What from the Cape, can you discerne at Sea?
1. Gent.
Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood:
I cannot 'twixt the Heauen, and the Maine,
Descry a Saile.
Mon.
Me thinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at Land,
A fuller blast ne're shooke our Battlements:
If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea,
What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them,
Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this?
2
A Segregation of the Turkish Fleet:
For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore,
The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds,
The winde-shak'd-Surge, with high & monstrous Maine
Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare,
And quench the Guards of th'euer-fixed Pole:
I neuer did like mollestation view
On the enchafed Flood.
Mon.
If that the Turkish Fleete
Be not enshelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd,
It is impossible to beare it out.
Enter a Gentleman.
3
Newes Laddes: our warres are done:
The desperate Tempest hath so bang'd the Turkes,
That their designement halts. A Noble ship of Venice,
Hath seene a greeuous wracke and sufferance
On most part of their Fleet.
Mon.
How? Is this true?
3
The Ship is heere put in: A Verennessa, Michael Cassio
Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello,
Is come on Shore, the Moore himselfe at Sea,
And is in full Commission heere for Cyprus.
Mon.
I am glad on't:
'Tis a worthy Gouernour.
3
But this same Cassio, though he speake of comfort,
Touching the Turkish losse, yet he lookes sadly,
And praye the Moore be safe; for they were parted
With fowle and violent Tempest.
Mon.
Pray Heauens he be:
For I haue seru'd him, and the man commands
Like a full Soldier. Let's to the Sea-side (hoa)
As well to see the Vessell that's come in,
As to throw-out our eyes for braue Othello,
Euen till we make the Maine, and th'Eriall blew,
An indistinct regard.
Gent.
Come, let's do so;
For euery Minute is expectancie
Of more Arriuancie.
Enter Cassio.
Cassi.
Thankes you, the valiant of the warlike Isle,
That so approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens
Giue him defence against the Elements,
For I haue lost him on a dangerous Sea.
Mon.
Is he well ship'd?
Cassio.
His Barke is stoutly Timber'd, and his Pylot
Of verie expert, and approu'd Allowance;
Therefore my hope's (not surfetted to death)
Stand in bold Cure.
Within.
A Saile, a Saile, a Saile.
Cassio.
What noise?
Gent.
The Towne is empty; on the brow o'th' Sea
Stand rankes of People, and they cry, a Saile.
Cassio.
My hopes do shape him for the Gouernor.
Gent.
They do discharge their Shot of Courtesie,
Our Friends, at least.
Cassio.
I pray you Sir, go forth,
And giue vs truth who 'tis that is arriu'd.
Gent.
I shall.
Exit.
Mon.
But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu'd?
Cassio.
Most fortunately: he hath atchieu'd a Maid
That paragons description, and wilde Fame:
One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens,
And in th'essentiall Vesture of Creation,
Do's tyre the Ingeniuer.
Enter Gentleman.
How now? Who ha's put in?
Gent.
'Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall.
Cassio.
Ha's had most fauourable, and happie speed:
Tempests themselues, high Seas, and howling windes,
The gutter'd-Rockes, and Congregated Sands,
Traitors ensteep'd, to enclogge the guiltlesse Keele,
As hauing sence of Beautie, do omit
Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by
The Diuine Desdemona.
Mon.
What is she?
Cassio.
She that I spake of:
Our great Captains Captaine,
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,
Whose footing neere anticipates our thoughts,
A Senights speed. Great Ioue, Othello guard,
And swell his Saile with thine owne powrefull breath,
That he may blesse this Bay with his tall Ship,
Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonaes Armes,
Giue renew'd fire to our extincted Spirits.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Æmilia.
Oh behold,
The Riches of the Ship is come on shore:
You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees.
Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen,
Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand
Enwheele thee round.
Des.
I thanke you, Valiant Cassio,
What tydings can you tell of my Lord?
He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought
But that he's well, and will be shortly heere.
Des.
Oh, but I feare:
How lost you company?
Cassio.
The great Contention of Sea, and Skies
Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile.
Within.
A Saile, a Saile.
Gent.
They giue this greeting to the Cittadell:
This likewise is a Friend.
Cassio.
See for the Newes:
Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris:
Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago)
That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding,
That giues me this bold shew of Curtesie.
Iago.
Sir, would she giue you so much of her lippes,
As of her tongue she oft bestowes on me,
You would haue enough.
Des.
Alas: she ha's no speech.
Iago.
Infaith too much:
I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe.
Marry before your Ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.
Æmil.
You haue little cause to say so.
Iago.
Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of
doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens:
Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended:
Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your
Beds.
Des.
Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer.
Iago.
Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke,
You rise to play, and go to bed to worke.
Æmil.
You shall not write my praise.
Iago.
No, let me not.
Desde.
What would'st write of me, if thou should'st
praise me?
Iago.
Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too't,
For I am nothing, if not Criticall.
Des.
Come on, assay.
There's one gone to the Harbour?
Iago.
I Madam.
Des.
I am not merry: but I do beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
Come, how would'st thou praise me?
Iago.
I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes
from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes
out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she
is deliuer'd.
The ones for vse, the other vseth it.
Des.
Well prais'd:
How if she be Blacke and Witty?
Iago.
If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit,
She'le find a white, that shall her blacknesse fit.
Des.
Worse, and worse.
Æmil.
How if Faire, and Foolish?
Iago.
She neuer yet was foolish that was faire,
For euen her folly helpt her to an heire.
Desde.
These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles
laugh i'th' Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou
for her that's Foule, and Foolish.
Iago.
There's none so foule and foolish thereunto,
But do's foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do.
Desde.
Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst
best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deseruing
woman indeed? One, that in the authority of her
merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it
selfe.
Iago.
She that was euer faire, and neuer proud,
Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud:
Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said now I may
She that being angred, her reuenge being nie,
Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flie:
She that in wisedome neuer was so fraile,
To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile:
She that could thinke, and neu'r disclose her mind,
See Suitors following, and not looke behind:
She was a wight, (if euer such wightes were)
Des.
To do what?
Iago.
To suckle Fooles, and chronicle small Beere.
Desde.
Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do
not learne of him Æmillia, though he be thy husband.
How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and liberall
Counsailor?
Cassio.
He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish
him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler.
Iago.
He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whisper.
With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great
a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee
in thine owne Courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed.
If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenantrie,
it had beene better you had not kiss'd your three fingers
so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play
the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss'd, and excellent Curtsie:
'tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your
lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your
sake.
The Moore I know his Trumpet.
Cassio,
'Tis truely so.
Des.
Let's meete him, and recieue him.
Cassio.
Loe, where he comes.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
Oth.
O, my faire Warriour.
Des.
My deere Othello.
Othe.
It giues me wonder great, as my content
To see you heere before me.
Oh my Soules Ioy:
If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes,
May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death:
And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas
Olympus high: and duck againe as low,
As hell's from Heauen. If it were now to dye,
'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare,
My Soule hath her content so absolute,
That not another comfort like to this,
Succeedes in vnknowne Fate.
Des.
The Heauens forbid
But that our Loues
And Comforts should encrease
Euen as our dayes do grow.
Othe.
Amen to that (sweet Powers)
I cannot speake enough of this content,
It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy.
And this, and this the greatest discords be
That ere our hearts shall make.
Iago.
Oh you are well tun'd now: But Ile set downe
the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am.
Come: let vs to the Castle.
Newes (Friends) our Warres are done:
The Turkes are drown'd.
How do's my old Acquaintance of this Isle?
(Hony) you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus,
I haue found great loue among'st them. Oh my Sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I doate
In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago,
Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers:
Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell,
He is a good one, and his worthynesse
Do's challenge much respect. Come Desdemona,
Once more well met at Cyprus.
Exit Othello and Desdemona.
Iago.
Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour.
Come thither, if thou be'st Valiant, (as they say base men
being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures,
more then is natiue to them) list-me; the Lieutenant to
night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell
thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him.
Rod.
With him? Why, 'tis not possible.
Iago.
Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be instructed.
Marke me with what violence she first lou'd
the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall
lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet
heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight
shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood
is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a
game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite.
Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners,
and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now
for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate
tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus'd, begin to heaue the,
gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil
instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice.
Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vnforc'd
position) who stands so eminent in the degree of
this Forune, as Cassio do's: a knaue very voluble: no
further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme
of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse
of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none,
why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occasion:
that he's an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Aduantages,
though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe.
A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young:
and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene
mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the
woman hath found him already.
Rodo.
I cannot beleeue that in her, she's full of most
bless'd condition.
Iago.
Bless'd figges-end. The Wine she drinkes is
made of grapes. If shee had beene bless'd, shee would
neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bless'd pudding. Didst thou
not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not
marke that?
Rod.
Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie.
Iago.
Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure
prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts.
They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes
embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when
these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand
comes the Master, and maine exercise, th'incorporate
conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue
brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for
the Command, Ile lay't vpon you. Cassio knowes you
not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde 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 fauorably minister.
Rod.
Well.
Iago.
Sir, he's rash, and very sodaine in Choller; and
happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for
euen out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to Mutiny.
Whose qualification shall come into no true taste againe,
but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you
haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I
shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment
most profitably remoued, without the which there were
no expectation of our prosperitie.
Rodo.
I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.
Iago.
I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the
Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Farewell.
Rodo.
Adieu.
Exit.
Iago.
That Cassio loues her, I do well beleeu't:
That she loues him, 'tis apt, and of great Credite.
The Moore (how beit that I endure him not)
Is of a constant, louing. Noble Nature,
And I dare thinke, he'le proue to Desdemona
A most deere husband. Now I do loue her too,
Not out of absolute Lust, (though peraduenture
I stand accomptant for as great a sin)
But partely led to dyet my Reuenge,
For that I do suspect the lustie Moore
Hath leap'd into my Seate. The thought whereof,
Doth (like a poysonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes:
And nothing can, or shall content my Soule
Till I am eeuen'd with him, wife, for wift.
Or fayling so, yet that I put the Moore,
At least into a Ielouzie so strong
That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poore Trash of Venice, whom I trace
For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on,
Ile haue our Michael Cassio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moore, in the right garbe
(For I feare Cassio with my Night-Cape too)
Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me,
For making him egregiously an Asse,
And practising vpon his peace, and quiet,
Euen to madnesse. 'Tis heere: but yet confus'd,
Knaueries plaine face, is neuer seene, till vs'd.
Exit.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Othello's, Herald with a Proclamation.Herald.
It is Othello's pleasure, our Noble and Valiant
Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu'd,
importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete:
euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce,
some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and
Reuels his addition leads him. For besides these beneficiall
Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So
much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices
are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this
Blesse the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othello.
Exit.
Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.
Othe.
Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night.
Let's teach our selues that Honourable stop,
Not to out-sport discretion.
Cas.
Iago, hath direction what to do.
But not withstanding with my personall eye
Will I looke to't.
Othe.
Iago, is most honest:
Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earliest,
Let me haue speech with you. Come my deere Loue,
The purchase made, the fruites are to ensue,
That profit's yet to come 'tweene me, and you.
Goodnight.
Exit.
Enter Iago.
Cas.
Welcome Iago: we must to the Watch.
Iago.
Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten
o'th' clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the
loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame;
he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and
she is sport for Ioue.
Cas.
She's a most exquisite Lady.
Iago.
And Ile warrant her, full of Game.
Cas.
Indeed shes a most fresh and delicate creature.
Iago.
What an eye she ha's?
Methinkes it sounds a parley to prouocation.
Cas.
An inuiting eye:
And yet me thinkes right modest.
Iago.
And when she speakes,
Is it not an Alarum to Loue?
Cas.
She is indeed perfection.
Iago.
Well: happinesse to their Sheetes. Come Lieutenant,
I haue a stope of Wine, and neere without are a
brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a measure
to the health of blacke Othello.
Cas.
Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish
Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of entertainment.
Iago.
Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
drinke for you.
Cassio.
I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation
it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and
dare not taske my weakenesse with any more.
Iago.
What man? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gallants
desire it.
Cas.
Where are they?
Iago.
Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in.
Cas.
Ile do't, but it dislikes me.
Exit.
Iago.
If I can fasten but one Cup vpon him
With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie,
He'l be as full of Quarrell, and offence
As my yong Mistris dogge.
Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo,
Whom Loue hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd.
Potations, pottle-deepe; and he's to watch.
Three else of Cyprus, Noble swelling Spirites,
(That hold their Honours in a wary distance,
The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle)
Haue I to night fluster'd with flowing Cups,
And they Watch too.
Now 'mongst this Flocke of drunkards
Am I put to our Cassio in some Action
That may offend the Isle. But here they come.
Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen.
If Consequence do but approue my dreame,
My Boate sailes freely, both with winde and Streame.
Cas.
'Fore heauen, they haue giuen me a rowse already.
Mon.
Good-faith a litle one: not past a pint, as I am a
Souldier.
Iago.
Some Wine hoa.
And let me the Cannakin clinke.
A Souldiers a man: Oh, mans life's but a span,
Why then let a Souldier drinke.
Cas.
'Fore Heauen: an excellent Song.
Iago.
I learn'd it in England: where indeed they are
most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine,
and your swag-belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are
nothing to your English.
Cassio.
Is your Englishmen so exquisite in his drinking?
Iago.
Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane
dead drunke. He sweates not to ouerthrow your Almaine.
He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next
Pottle can be fill'd.
Cas.
To the health of our Generall.
Mon.
I am for it Lieutenant: and Ile do you Iustice.
Iago.
Oh sweet England.
His Breeches cost him but a Crowne,
He held them Six pence all to deere,
With that he cal'd the Tailor Lowne:
He was a wight of high Renowne,
And thou art but of low degree:
'Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe,
And take thy awl'd Cloake about thee.
Cassio.
Why this is a more exquisite Song then the other.
Iago.
Will you heare't againe?
Cas.
No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place,
that do's those things. Well: heau'ns aboue all: and
there be soules must be saued, and there be soules must
not be saued.
Iago.
It's true, good Lieutenant.
Cas.
For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall,
nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued.
Iago.
And so do I too Lieutenant.
Cassio.
I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The
Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's haue
no more of this: let's to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our
sinnes: Gentlemen let's looke to our businesse. Do not
thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this
is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke
now: I can stand well enough, and I speake well enough.
Gent.
Excellent well.
Cas.
Why very well then: you must not thinke then,
that I am drunke.
Exit.
Monta.
To th'Platforme (Masters) come, let's set the
Watch.
Iago.
You see this Fellow, that is gone before,
He's a Souldier, fit to stand by Cæsar,
And giue direction. And do but see his vice,
'Tis to his vertue, a iust Equinox,
I feare the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odde time of his infirmitie
Will shake this Island.
Mont.
But is he often thus?
Iago.
'Tis euermore his prologue to his sleepe,
He'le watch the Horologe a double Set,
If Drinke rocke not his Cradle.
Mont.
It were well
The Generall were put in mind of it:
Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature
Prizes the vertue that appeares in Cassio,
And lookes not on his euills: is not this true?
Enter Rodorigo.
Iago.
How now Rodorigo?
I pray you after the Lieutenant, go.
Mon.
And 'tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore
Should hazard such a Place, as his owne Second
With one of an ingraft Infirmitie,
It were an honest Action, to say so
To the Moore.
Iago.
Not I, for this faire Island,
I do loue Cassio well: and would do much
To cure him of this euill, But hearke, what noise?
Enter Cassio pursuing Rodorigo.
Cas.
You Rogue: you Rascall.
Mon.
What's the matter Lieutenant?
Cas.
A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the
Knaue into a Twiggen-Bottle.
Rod.
Beate me?
Cas.
Dost thou prate, Rogue?
Mon.
Nay, good Lieutenant:
I pray you Sir, hold your hand.
Cassio.
Let me go (Sir)
Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard.
Mon.
Come, come: you're drunke.
Cassio.
Drunke?
Iago.
Away I say: go out and cry a Mutinie.
Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen:
Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano:
Helpe Masters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed.
Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa:
The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant,
You'le be asham'd foreuer.
Enter Othello, and Attendants.
Othe.
What is the matter heere?
Mon.
I bleed still, I am hurt to th'death. He dies.
Othe.
Hold for your liues.
Iag.
Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen:
Haue you forgot all place of sense and dutie?
Hold. The Generall speaks to you: hold for shame.
Oth.
Why how now hoa? From whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd Turkes? and to our selues do that
Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes.
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous Brawle:
He that stirs next, to carue for his owne rage,
Holds his soule light: He dies vpon his Motion.
Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Isle,
From her propriety. What is the matter, Masters?
Honest Iago that lookes dead with greeuing,
Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee?
Iago.
I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now.
In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome
Deuesting them for Bed: and then, but now:
(As if some Planet had vnwitted men)
Swords out, and tilting one at others breastes,
In opposition bloody. I cannot speake
Any begining to this peeuish oddes.
And would, in Action glorious, I had lost
Those legges, that brought me to a part of it.
Othe.
How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot?
Cas.
I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake.
Othe.
Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill:
The grauitie, and stillnesse of your youth
The world hath noted. And your name is great
In mouthes of wisest Censure. What's the matter
That you vnlace your reputation thus,
And spend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night-brawler? Giue me answer to it.
Mon.
Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger,
Your Officer Iago, can informe you,
While I spare speech which something now offends me.
Of all that I do know, nor know I ought
By me, that's said, or done amisse this night,
Vnlesse selfe-charitie be sometimes a vice,
And to defend our selues, it be a sinne
When violence assailes vs.
Othe.
Now by Heauen,
My blood begins my safer Guides to rule,
And passion (hauing my best iudgement collied)
Assaies to leade the way. If I once stir,
Or do but lift this Arme, the best of you
Shall sinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know
How this foule Rout began: Who set it on,
And he that is approu'd in this offence,
Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth,
Shall loose me. What in a Towne of warre,
Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare,
To Manage priuate, and domesticke Quarrell?
In night, and on the Court and Guard of safetie?
'Tis monstrous: Iago, who began't?
Mon.
If partially Affin'd, or league in office,
Thou dost deliuer more, or lesse then Truth.
Thou art no Souldier.
Iago.
Touch me not so neere,
I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth,
Then it should do offence to Michaell Cassio.
Yet I perswade my selfe, to speake the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall:
Montano and my selfe being in speech,
There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe,
And Cassio following him with determin'd Sword
To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman,
Steppes in to Cassio, and entreats his pause:
My selfe, the crying Fellow did pursue,
Least by his clamour (as it so fell out)
The Towne might fall in fright. He, (swift of foote)
Out-ran my purpose: and I return'd then rather
For that I heard the clinke, and fall of Swords,
And Cassio high in oath: Which till to night
I nere might say before. When I came backe
(For this was briefe) I found them close together
At blow, and thrust, euen as againe they were
When you your selfe 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 beleeue receiu'd
From him that fled, some strange Indignitie,
Which patience could not passe.
I know Iago
Thy honestie, and loue doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Cassio: Cassio, I loue thee,
But neuer more be Officer of mine.
Enter Desdemona attended.
Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais'd vp:
Ile make thee an example.
Des.
What is the matter (Deere?)
Othe.
All's well, Sweeting:
Come away to bed. Sir for your hurts,
My selfe will be your Surgeon. Lead him off:
Iago, looke with care about the Towne,
And silence those whom this vil'd brawle distracted.
Come Desdemona, 'tis the Soldiers life,
To haue their Balmy slumbers wak'd with strife.
Exit.
Iago.
What are you hurt Lieutenant?
Cas.
I, past all Surgery.
Iago.
Marry Heauen forbid.
Cas.
Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue
lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of
myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall. My Reputation,
Iago, my Reputation.
Iago.
As I am an honest man I had thought you had
receiued some bodily wound; there is more sence in that
then in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false
imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deseruing.
You haue lost no Reputation at all, vnlesse you
repute your selfe such a looser. What man, there are
more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are
but now cast in his moode, (a punishment more in policie,
then in malice) euen so as one would beate his offencelesse
dogge, to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to
him againe, and he's yours.
Cas.
I will rather sue to be despis'd, then to deceiue
so good a Commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so
indiscreet an Officer. Drunke? And speake Parrat? And
squabble? Swagger? Sweare? And discourse Fustian
with ones owne shadow? Oh thou invisible spirit of
Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call
thee Diuell.
Iago.
What was he that you follow'd with your
Sword? What had he done to you?
Cas.
I know not.?
Iago.
Is't possible?
Cas.
I remember a masse of things, but nothing distinctly:
a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that
men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to steale away
their Braines? that we should with ioy, pleasance,
reuell and applause, transforme our selues into Beasts.
Iago.
Why? But you are now well enough: how
came you thus recouered?
Cas.
It hath pleas'd the diuell drunkennesse, to giue
place to the diuell wrath, one vnperfectnesse, shewes me
another to make me frankly despise my selfe.
Iago.
Come, you are too seuere a Moraller. As the
Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands
I could hartily wish this had not befalne: but since it is, as
it is, mend it for your owne good.
Cas.
I will aske him for my Place againe, he shall tell
me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra,
such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible
man, by and by a Foole, and presently a Beast. Oh
strange! Euery inordinate cup is vnbless'd, and the Ingredient
is a diuell.
Iago.
Come, come: good wine, is a good famillar
Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclaime no more against it.
And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue
you.
Cassio.
I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke?
Iago.
You, or any man liuing, may be drunke at a
time man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General's
Wife, is now the Generall. I may say so, in this respect,
for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himselfe to the
Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts
and Graces. Confesse your selfe freely to her: Importune
her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is
of so free, so kinde, so apt, so blessed a disposition,
she holds it a vice in her goodnesse, nor to do more
then she is requested. This broken ioynt betweene
you, and her husband, entreat her to splinter. And my
Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this cracke of
your Loue, shall grow stronger, then it was before.
Cassio.
You aduise me well.
Iago.
I protest in the sinceritie of Loue, and honest
kindnesse.
Cassio.
I thinke it freely: and betimes in the morning,
I will beseech the vertuous Desdemona to vndertake
for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me.
Iago.
You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I
must to the Watch.
Cassio.
Good night, honest Iago.
Iago.
And what's he then,
That saies I play the Villaine?
When this aduise is free I giue, and honest,
Proball to thinking, and indeed the course
To win the Moore againe.
For 'tis most easie
Th'inclyning Desdemona to subdue
In any honest Suite. She's fram'd as fruitefull
As the free Elements. And then for her
To win the Moore, were to renownce his Baptisme,
All Seales, and Simbols of redeemed sin:
His Soule is so enfetter'd to her Loue,
That she may make, vnmake, do what she list,
Euen as her Appetite shall play the God,
With his weake Function. How am I then a Villaine,
To Counsell Cassio to this paralell course,
Directly to his good? Diuinitie of hell,
When diuels will the blackest sinnes put on,
They do suggest at first with heauenly shewes,
As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole
Plies Desdemona, to repaire his Fortune,
And she for him, pleades strongly to the Moore,
Ile powre this pestilence into his eare:
That she repeales him, for her bodies Lust'
And by how much she striues to do him good,
She shall vndo her Credite with the Moore.
So will I turne her vertue into pitch,
And out of her owne goodnesse make the Net,
That shall en-mash them all.
How now Rodorigo?
Enter Rodorigo.
Rodorigo.
I do follow heere in the Chace, not
like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the
Crie. My Money is almost spent; I haue bin to night
exceedingly well Cudgell'd: And I thinke the issue
And so, with no money at all, and a little more Wit, returne
againe to Venice.
Iago.
How poore are they that haue not Patience?
What wound did euer heale but by degrees?
Thou know'st we worke by Wit, and not by Witchcraft
And Wit depends on dilatory time:
Dos't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee,
And thou by that small hurt hath casheer'd Cassio:
Though other things grow faire against the Sun,
Yet Fruites that blossome first, will first be ripe:
Content thy selfe, a-while. In troth 'tis Morning;
Pleasure, and Action, make the houres seeme short.
Retire thee, go where thou art Billited:
Away, I say, thou shalt know more heereafter:
Nay get thee gone.
Exit Rodorigo.
Two things are to be done:
My Wife must moue for Cassio to her Mistris:
Ile set her on my selfe, a while, to draw the Moor apart,
And bring him iumpe, when he may Cassio finde
Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way:
Dull not Deuice, by coldnesse, and delay.
Exit.
| The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice | |