READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, scenes i–ii |
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Act II, Scene i:
A seaport in Cyprus. A Platform.
A seaport in Cyprus. A Platform.
| [Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.] |
| MONTANO: |
| What from the cape can you discern at sea? |
| FIRST GENTLEMAN: |
| Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood; |
| I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, |
| Descry a sail. |
| MONTANO: |
| Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; |
| A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: |
| If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, |
| What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, |
| Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? |
| SECOND GENTLEMAN: |
| A segregation of the Turkish fleet: |
| For do but stand upon the foaming shore, |
| The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; |
| The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous main, |
| Seems to cast water on the burning Bear, |
| And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole; |
| I never did like molestation view |
| On the enchafed flood. |
| MONTANO: |
| If that the Turkish fleet |
| Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; |
| It is impossible to bear it out. |
| [Enter a third Gentleman.] |
| THIRD GENTLEMAN: |
| News, lads! our wars are done. |
| The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks |
| That their designment halts; a noble ship of Venice |
| Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance |
| On most part of their fleet. |
| MONTANO: |
| How! is this true? |
| THIRD GENTLEMAN: |
| The ship is here put in, |
| A Veronessa; Michael Cassio, |
| Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, |
| Is come on shore: the Moor himself's at sea, |
| And is in full commission here for Cyprus. |
| MONTANO: |
| I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. |
| THIRD GENTLEMAN: |
| But this same Cassio,—though he speak of comfort |
| Touching the Turkish loss,—yet he looks sadly, |
| And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted |
| With foul and violent tempest. |
| MONTANO: |
| Pray heavens he be; |
| For I 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. |
| THIRD GENTLEMAN: |
| Come, let's do so; |
| For every minute is expectancy |
| Of more arrivance. |
| [Enter Cassio.] |
| CASSIO: |
| Thanks you, 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! |
| MONTANO: |
| Is he well shipp'd? |
| CASSIO: |
| 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 a fourth Gentleman.] |
| CASSIO: |
| What noise? |
| FOURTH GENTLEMAN: |
| The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea |
| Stand ranks of people, and they cry, "A sail!" |
| CASSIO: |
| My hopes do shape him for the governor. |
| [Guns within.] |
| SECOND GENTLEMAN: |
| They do discharge their shot of courtesy: |
| Our friends at least. |
| CASSIO: |
| I pray you, sir, go forth, |
| And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd. |
| SECOND GENTLEMAN: |
| I shall. |
| [Exit.] |
| MONTANO: |
| But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv'd? |
| CASSIO: |
| 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 tire the ingener.— |
| [Re-enter second Gentleman.] |
| How now! who has put in? |
| SECOND GENTLEMAN: |
| 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. |
| CASSIO: |
| Has had most favourable and happy speed: |
| Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, |
| The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,— |
| Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,— |
| As having sense of beauty, do omit |
| Their mortal natures, letting go safely by |
| The divine Desdemona. |
| MONTANO: |
| What is she? |
| CASSIO: |
| She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, |
| Left in the conduct of the bold Iago; |
| Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts |
| A se'nnight's speed.—Great Jove, Othello guard, |
| And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, |
| That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, |
| Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, |
| Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits, |
| And bring all Cyprus comfort! O, behold, |
| [Enter Desdemona, Emilia, Iago, Roderigo, and Attendants.] |
| The riches of the ship is come on shore! |
| Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.— |
| Hall to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, |
| Before, behind thee, and on every hand, |
| Enwheel thee round! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I thank you, valiant Cassio. |
| What tidings can you tell me of my lord? |
| CASSIO: |
| He is not yet arrived nor know I aught |
| But that he's well, and will be shortly here. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| O, but I fear—How lost you company? |
| CASSIO: |
| The great contention of the sea and skies |
| Parted our fellowship:—but, hark! a sail. |
| [Within.] A sail, a sail! |
| [Guns within.] |
| SECOND GENTLEMAN: |
| They give their greeting to the citadel: |
| This likewise is a friend. |
| CASSIO: |
| See for the news. |
| [Exit Gentleman.] |
| Good ancient, you are welcome:—Welcome, mistress:—[To Emilia.] |
| Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, |
| That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding |
| That gives me this bold show of courtesy. |
| [Kissing her.] |
| IAGO: |
| Sir, would she give you so much of her lips |
| As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, |
| You'd have enough. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Alas, she has no speech. |
| IAGO: |
| In faith, too much; |
| I find it still when I have list to sleep: |
| Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, |
| She puts her tongue a little in her heart, |
| And chides with thinking. |
| EMILIA: |
| You have little cause to say so. |
| IAGO: |
| 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. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| O, fie upon thee, slanderer! |
| IAGO: |
| Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: |
| You rise to play, and go to bed to work. |
| EMILIA: |
| You shall not write my praise. |
| IAGO: |
| No, let me not. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst praise me? |
| IAGO: |
| O gentle lady, do not put me to't; |
| For I am nothing if not critical. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Come on, assay—There's one gone to the harbor? |
| IAGO: |
| Ay, madam. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| I am not merry; but I do beguile |
| The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.— |
| Come, how wouldst thou praise me? |
| IAGO: |
| 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 labours, |
| And thus she is deliver'd. |
| If she be fair and wise,—fairness and wit, |
| The one's for use, the other useth it. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Well prais'd! How if she be black and witty? |
| IAGO: |
| If she be black, and thereto have a wit, |
| She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Worse and worse. |
| EMILIA: |
| How if fair and foolish? |
| IAGO: |
| She never yet was foolish that was fair; |
| For even her folly help'd her to an heir. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' the |
| alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul |
| and foolish? |
| IAGO: |
| There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, |
| But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| O heavy ignorance!—thou praisest the worst best. But what |
| praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed,—one |
| that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch |
| of very malice itself? |
| IAGO: |
| She that was ever fair and never proud; |
| Had tongue at will and yet was never loud; |
| Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay; |
| Fled from her wish, and yet said, "Now I may"; |
| She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, |
| Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly; |
| She that in wisdom never was so frail |
| To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; |
| She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind; |
| See suitors following and not look behind; |
| She was a wight, if ever such wight were;— |
| DESDEMONA: |
| To do what? |
| IAGO: |
| To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| O most lame and impotent conclusion!—Do not learn of him, |
| Emilia, though he be thy husband.—How say you, Cassio? is he |
| not a most profane and liberal counsellor? |
| CASSIO: |
| He speaks home, madam: you may relish him more in the |
| soldier than in the scholar. |
| IAGO: |
| [Aside.] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, whisper: |
| with as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as |
| Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own |
| courtship. You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as |
| these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you |
| had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are |
| most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent |
| courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? |
| Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake![Trumpet within.]— |
| The Moor! I know his trumpet. |
| CASSIO: |
| 'Tis truly so. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| Let's meet him, and receive him. |
| CASSIO: |
| Lo, where he comes! |
| [Enter Othello and Attendants.] |
| OTHELLO: |
| O my fair warrior! |
| DESDEMONA: |
| My dear Othello! |
| OTHELLO: |
| It gives me wonder great as my content |
| To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! |
| If after every tempest come such calms, |
| May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! |
| And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas |
| Olympus-high, and duck again as low |
| As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, |
| 'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, |
| My soul hath her content so absolute |
| That not another comfort like to this |
| Succeeds in unknown fate. |
| DESDEMONA: |
| The heavens forbid |
| But that our loves and comforts should increase |
| Even as our days do grow! |
| OTHELLO: |
| Amen to that, sweet powers!— |
| I cannot speak enough of this content; |
| It stops me here; it is too much of joy: |
| And this, and this, the greatest discords be |
| [Kissing her.] |
| That e'er our hearts shall make! |
| IAGO: |
| [Aside.] O, you are well tun'd now! |
| But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, |
| As honest as I am. |
| OTHELLO: |
| Come, let us to the castle.— |
| News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd. |
| How does my old acquaintance of this isle? |
| Honey, you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus; |
| I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, |
| I prattle out of fashion, and I dote |
| In mine own comforts.—I pry'thee, good Iago, |
| Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: |
| Bring thou the master to the citadel; |
| He is a good one, and his worthiness |
| Does challenge much respect.—Come, Desdemona, |
| Once more well met at Cyprus. |
| [Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.] |
| IAGO: |
| Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. If thou |
| be'st valiant,—as, they say, base men being in love have then a |
| nobility in their natures more than is native to them,—list me. |
| The lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard: first, I |
| must tell thee this—Desdemona is directly in love with him. |
| RODERIGO: |
| With him! why, 'tis not possible. |
| IAGO: |
| Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me |
| with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging, |
| and telling her fantastical lies: and will she love him still for |
| prating? let not thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be |
| fed; and what delight shall she have to look on the devil? When |
| the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should |
| be,—again to inflame it and to give satiety a fresh appetite,— |
| loveliness in favour; sympathy in years, manners, and beauties; |
| all which the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these |
| required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself |
| abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor; |
| very nature will instruct her in it, and compel her to some |
| second choice. Now sir, this granted;—as it is a most pregnant |
| and unforced position,—who stands so eminently in the degree of |
| this fortune as Cassio does? a knave very voluble; no further |
| conscionable than in putting on the mere form of civil and |
| humane seeming, for the better compass of his salt and most |
| hidden loose affection? why, none; why, none;—a slipper and |
| subtle knave; a finder out of occasions; that has an eye can |
| stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never |
| present itself: a devilish knave! besides, the knave is |
| handsome, young, and hath all those requisites in him that folly |
| and green minds look after: a pestilent complete knave; and the |
| woman hath found him already. |
| RODERIGO: |
| I cannot believe that in her; she is full of most blessed |
| condition. |
| IAGO: |
| Blest fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of grapes: if |
| she had been blessed, she would never have loved the Moor: |
| blessed pudding! Didst thou not see her paddle with the palm of |
| his hand? didst not mark that? |
| RODERIGO: |
| Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. |
| IAGO: |
| Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue to the |
| history of lust and foul thoughts. They met so near with their |
| lips that their breaths embraced together. Villainous thoughts, |
| Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at |
| hand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate |
| conclusion: pish!—But, sir, be you ruled by me: I have brought |
| you from Venice. Watch you to-night: for the command, I'll lay't |
| upon you: Cassio knows you not:—I'll not be far from you: do you |
| find 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 favourably minister. |
| RODERIGO: |
| Well. |
| IAGO: |
| Sir, he is rash, and very sudden in choler, and haply with his |
| truncheon may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for even |
| out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny, whose |
| qualification shall come into no true taste again but by the |
| displanting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to |
| your desires by the means I shall then have to prefer them; and |
| the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there |
| were no expectation of our prosperity. |
| RODERIGO: |
| I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity. |
| IAGO: |
| I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must |
| fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. |
| RODERIGO: |
| Adieu. |
| [Exit.] |
| IAGO: |
| That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; |
| That she loves him, 'tis apt, and of great credit: |
| The Moor,—howbeit that I endure him not,— |
| Is of a constant, loving, noble nature; |
| And, I dare think, he'll prove to Desdemona |
| A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; |
| Not out of absolute lust,—though, peradventure, |
| I stand accountant for as great a sin,- |
| But partly led to diet my revenge, |
| For that I do suspect the lusty Moor |
| Hath leap'd into my seat: the thought whereof |
| Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; |
| And nothing can or shall content my soul |
| Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife; |
| Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor |
| At least into a jealousy so strong |
| That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do,— |
| If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash |
| For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, |
| I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip; |
| Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb,— |
| For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too;— |
| Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me |
| For making him egregiously an ass |
| And practicing upon his peace and quiet |
| Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confus'd: |
| Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd. |
| [Exit.] |
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