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Cas. Not to-night, good Iago; I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking : I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

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

Cas. 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 task

my

weakness with any more. Iago. What, man! 'tis a night of revels; the gallants desire it.

Cas. Where are they?
Iago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
Cas. I'll do't; but it dislikes me. [Exit Cassio.

Iago. If I can fasten 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 mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool, Ro-

derigo,
Whom love has turn'd almost the wrong side outward,
To Desdemona hath to-night carous'd
Potations pottle deep; and he's to watch :
Three lads of Cyprus,-noble swelling spirits,
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,
Have I to-night Auster’d with flowing cups,
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunk-

ards,
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle :-But here they come:
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.

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Re-enter Cassio, with him MONTANO, and Gentlemen.

Cas. 'Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already.

Mon. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.

Iago. Some wine, ho!

[Sings.

And let me the canakin clink, clink;
And let me the canakin clink :

A soldier's a man;

A life's but a span;
Why then let a soldier drink.

Some wine, boys!

[Wine brought in. Cas. 'Fore heaven, an excellent song.

Iago. I learned it in England, where (indeed) they are most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,— Drink, ho !-are nothing to your English.

Cas. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?

Iago. Why, he drinks. you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle can be filled.

Cas. To the health of our general.
Mon. I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
Iago. O sweet England !

King Stephen was a worthy peer,

His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence all too dear,

With that he calls 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.

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Some wine, ho!

Cas. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.

Iago. Will you hear it again?

Cas. No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place, that does those things.-Well,-Heaven's above all; and there be souls that must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.

Iago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Cas. For mine own part,-no offence to the general, nor any man of quality, -I hope to be saved.

Iago. And so do I too, lieutenant.

Cas. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's have no more of this ; let's to our affairs.-Forgive us our sins !-Gentlemen, let's look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am drunk; this is my ancient ;this is my right hand, and this is my left hand :-I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and speak well enough.

All. Excellent well.

Cas. Why, very well, then: you must not think then that I am drunk.

[Exit. Mon. To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch.

Iago. You see this fellow, that is gone before;He is a soldier, fit to stand by Cæsar

And give direction : and do but see his vice;
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,
The one as long as the other : 'tis pity of him.
I fear, the trust Othello puts him in,
On some odd time of his infirmity,
Will shake this island.

Mon. But is he often thus ?

Iago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep;
He'll watch the horologe a double set,
If drink rock not his cradle.

Mon. It were well,
The general were put in mind of it.
Perhaps, he sees it not; or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,
And looks not on his evils: Is not this true ?

Enter RODERIGO. Iago. How now, Roderigo ?

[Aside. I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. [Exit RoderiGO.

Mon. 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 ?

[Cry within, -Help, help!

Re-enter Cassio, driving in RODERIGO.
Cas. You rogue ! you rascal !
Mon. What's the matter, lieutenant ?

Cas. A knave !-teach me my duty!
I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.

Rod. Beat me!
Cas. Dost thou prate, rogue? [Striking RODERIGO.
Mon. Nay, good lieutenant;

[Staying him. I pray you, sir, hold your hand.

Cas. Let me go, sir,
Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.

Mon. Come, come, you're drunk.
Cas. Drunk !

[They fight. Iago. Away, I say! go out, and cry-a mutiny.

[ Aside to Rod. who goes out. Nay, good lieutenant,-alas, gentlemen,Help, ho !-Lieutenant,-sir, -Montano,-sir;Help, masters !-Here's a goodly watch, indeed !

[Bell rings. Who's that that rings the bell ?— Diablo, ho ! The town will rise : God's will, lieutenant ! hold; You will be sham'd for ever.

Enter Othello, and Attendants. Oth. What is the matter here? Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to the death ;-he dies. Oth. Hold, for your lives. Iago. Hold, hold, lieutenant,-sir, Montano,-gen

tlemen,Have you forgot all sense of place and duty ? Hold, hold! the general speaks to you; hold, for shame!

Oth. 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:

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