1 AC T. II. SCENE I. A Sea-port Town in Cyprus. A Platform. Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern al sea ?*... 1. Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, Mon. Methinks, the wind hath spoke aloud A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, 2. Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet: For do but stand upon the foaming shore, The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds ; The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning bear, On th' enchaf'd flood. Mon. If that the Turkish fleet. Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; It is impossible they bear it out. Enter a third Gentleman. 3. Gent. News, Lords! our wars are done; The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, That their desigument halts: A noble ship of Ve nice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance Mon. How is this true? 3. Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronese; Michael Cassio, Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello, Mon. 'Pray heaven he be; For 1 have serv'd him, and the man commands Like a full soldier. Let's to the sea-side, ho! As well to see the vessel that's come in, As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello; Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue, An indistinct regard. Gent. Come, let's do so; For every minute is expectancy Enter CASSIO. Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, That so approve the Moor; O, let the heavens Give him defence against the elements, For I have lost him on a dangerous sea! Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot Of very expert and approv'd allowance; Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure. [Within.] A sail, a sail, a sail ! Enter another Gentleman. Cas. What noise? 4. Gent. The town is empty: on the brow o'the sea Stand ranks of people, aud they cry -a sail. Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governour. 2. Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy; [Guns heard. Our friends, at least. Cas. I pray you, Sir, go forth, And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd. 2. Gent. I shall. [Exit. Mon. But, good Lieutenant; is your general wiv'd? Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achiev'd a maid That paragons description, and wild fame; One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, And in the essential vesture of creation, Does bear all excellency. How now? who has put in? Re-enter second Gentleman. 2. Gent. 'Tis que lago, ancient to the general. Cas. He has had most favourable and happy speed: Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands, Their moral natures, letting go safely by Mon. What is she? Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, -- Left in the conduct of the bold Iago; O, behold, Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants. The riches of the ship is come on shore! Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio. What tidings can you tell me of my lord? Cas. See for the news. [Exit. Gentleman. Welcome, Good Ancient, you are welcome, 1 Mistress: [70 EMILIA. Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners? 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her. Lago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue shie oft bestows on me Des. Alas, she has no speech. I find it still, when I have list to sleep: Emil. You have little cause to say so. Jago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. Des. O, fie upon thee, slanderer! Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk ་་་ Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou should'st praise me? Iago. O gentle Lady, do not put me to't; For I am nothing, if not critical. Des. Come on, assay: There's one gone to the harbour? Iago. Ay, Madam. Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. Come, how would'st thou praise me? Tago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frize, It plucks out brains and all: But my muse la-' bours, And thus she is deliver"d. If |