Act II, Scene iii: A Hall in the Castle.
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: | |
| | Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, | |
| | Not to out-sport discretion. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Iago hath direction what to do; | |
| | But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye | |
| | Will I look to't. | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | Iago is most honest. | |
| | Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest | |
| | Let me have speech with you.—Come, my dear love,—[To Desdemona] | |
| | The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; | |
| | That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.— | |
| | Good-night. | |
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[Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.]
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the clock. | |
| | Our general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who | |
| | let us not therefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night | |
| | with her; and she is sport for Jove. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | She's a most exquisite lady. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | And, I'll warrant her, full of game. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley to provocation. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | And when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | She is, indeed, perfection. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a | |
| | stoup of wine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants | |
| | that would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | 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. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for you. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | 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. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants desire it. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I'll do't; but it dislikes me. | |
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| | 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 offense | |
| | As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, | |
| | Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, | |
| | 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 fluster'd with flowing cups, | |
| | And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, | |
| | 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; followed byServant with wine.]
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | 'Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier. | |
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[Sings.]
| |
| | "And let me the canakin clink, clink; | |
| | And let me the canakin clink. | |
| A soldier's a man; | |
| O, man's life's but a span; | |
| | Why then let a soldier drink." | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | 'Fore God, an excellent song. | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | To the health of our general! | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. | |
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[Sings.]
| |
| | "King Stephen was and a worthy peer, | |
| His breeches cost him but a crown; | |
| | He held them sixpence 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." | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Will you hear it again? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does | |
| | those things.—Well,—God's above all, and there be souls must | |
| | be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | It's true, good lieutenant. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | For mine own part,—no offence to the general, nor any | |
| | man of quality,—I hope to be saved. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | And so do I too, lieutenant. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | 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:—I am | |
| | not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and I speak well enough. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Why, very well then: you must not think, then, that I am drunk. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | You see this fellow that is gone before;— | |
| | He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar | |
| | 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. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | But is he often thus? | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: | |
| | He'll watch the horologe a double set | |
| | If drink rock not his cradle. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | 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? | |
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| | IAGO: | |
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[Aside to him.]
How now, Roderigo!
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| | I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | 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. | |
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| | 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? | |
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[Cry within,—"Help! help!"]
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[Re-enter Cassio, driving in Roderigo.]
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | You rogue! you rascal! | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | What's the matter, lieutenant? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | A knave teach me my duty! I'll beat the knave into | |
| | a twiggen bottle. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Dost thou prate, rogue? | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | Nay, good lieutenant; I pray you, sir, hold your hand. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Let me go, sir, or I'll knock you o'er the mazard. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | Come, come, you're drunk. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Away, I say! go out and cry a mutiny. | |
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[Aside to Roderigo, who goes out.]
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| | Nay, good lieutenant,—alas,, gentlemen:— | |
| | Help, ho!—Lieutenant,—sir,—Montano,—sir:— | |
| | Help, masters!—Here's a goodly watch indeed! | |
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[Bell rings.]
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| | Who's that that rings the bell?—Diablo, ho! | |
| | The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold; | |
| | You will be sham'd forever. | |
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[Re-enter Othello and Attendants.]
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | What is the matter here? | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | Hold, for your lives! | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Hold, ho! lieutenant,—sir,—Montano,—gentlemen,— | |
| | Have you forgot all place of sense and duty? | |
| | Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | 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: | |
| | He that stirs next to carve for his own rage | |
| | Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.— | |
| | Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the isle | |
| | From her propriety.—What is the matter, masters?— | |
| | Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, | |
| | Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | I do not know:—friends all but now, even now, | |
| | In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom | |
| | Devesting them for bed; and then, but now— | |
| | As if some planet had unwitted men,— | |
| | Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast | |
| | In opposition bloody. I cannot speak | |
| | Any beginning to this peevish odds; | |
| | And would in action glorious I had lost | |
| | Those legs that brought me to a part of it! | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; | |
| | The gravity and stillness of your youth | |
| | The world hath noted, and your name is great | |
| | In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, | |
| | That you unlace your reputation thus, | |
| | And spend your rich opinion for the name | |
| | Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: | |
| | Your officer, Iago, can inform you,— | |
| | While I spare speech, which something now offends me,— | |
| | Of all that I do know: nor know I aught | |
| | By me that's said or done amiss this night: | |
| | Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, | |
| | And to defend ourselves it be a sin | |
| | When violence assails us. | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | Now, by heaven, | |
| | My blood begins my safer guides to rule; | |
| | And passion, having my best judgement collied, | |
| | Assays to lead the way. If I once stir, | |
| | Or do but lift this arm, the best of you | |
| | Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know | |
| | How this foul rout began, who set it on; | |
| | And he that is approv'd in this offensc, | |
| | Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, | |
| | Shall lose me.—What! in a town of war | |
| | Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, | |
| | To manage private and domestic quarrel, | |
| | In night, and on the court and guard of safety! | |
| | 'Tis monstrous.—Iago, who began't? | |
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| | MONTANO: | |
| | If partially affin'd, or leagu'd in office, | |
| | Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, | |
| | Thou art no soldier. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Touch me not so near: | |
| | I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth | |
| | Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; | |
| | Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth | |
| | Shall nothing wrong him.—Thus it is, general. | |
| | Montano and myself being in speech, | |
| | There comes a fellow crying out for help; | |
| | And Cassio following him with determin'd sword, | |
| | To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman | |
| | Steps in to Cassio and entreats his pause: | |
| | Myself the crying fellow did pursue, | |
| | Lest by his clamour,—as it so fell out,— | |
| | The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, | |
| | Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather | |
| | For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, | |
| | And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night | |
| | I ne'er might say before. When I came back,— | |
| | For this was brief,—I found them close together, | |
| | At blow and thrust; even as again they were | |
| | When you yourself 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 believe, receiv'd | |
| | From him that fled some strange indignity, | |
| | Which patience could not pass. | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | I know, Iago, | |
| | Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, | |
| | Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee; | |
| | But never more be officer of mine.— | |
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[Renter Desdemona, attended.]
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| | Look, if my gentle love be not rais'd up!— | |
| | I'll make thee an example. | |
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| | DESDEMONA: | |
| | What's the matter? | |
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| | OTHELLO: | |
| | All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. | |
| | Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: | |
| | Lead him off. | |
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[To Montano, who is lead off.]
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| | Iago, look with care about the town, | |
| | And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted.— | |
| | Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life. | |
| | To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife. | |
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[Exeunt all but Iago and Cassio.]
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| | IAGO: | |
| | What, are you hurt, lieutenant? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Ay, past all surgery. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Marry, heaven forbid! | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my | |
| | reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what | |
| | remains is bestial.—My reputation, Iago, my reputation! | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some | |
| | bodily wound; there is more sense in that than in reputation. | |
| | Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without | |
| | merit and lost without deserving: you have lost no reputation at | |
| | all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! there | |
| | are ways to recover the general again: you are but now cast in | |
| | his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even so as | |
| | one would beat his offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: | |
| | sue to him again, and he is yours. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so | |
| | good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an | |
| | officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? | |
| | swear? and discourse fustian with one's own shadow?—O thou | |
| | invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, | |
| | let us call thee devil! | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | What was he that you followed with your sword? | |
| | What had he done to you? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a | |
| | quarrel, but nothing wherefore.—O God, that men should put an | |
| | enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we | |
| | should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform | |
| | ourselves into beasts! | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered? | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place to the | |
| | devil wrath: one unperfectness shows me another, to make me | |
| | frankly despise myself. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, the place, | |
| | and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily | |
| | wish this had not befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for | |
| | your own good. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I will ask him for my place again;—he shall tell me I am a | |
| | drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would | |
| | stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, | |
| | and presently a beast! O strange!—Every inordinate cup is | |
| | unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be | |
| | well used: exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, | |
| | I think you think I love you. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I have well approved it, sir.—I drunk! | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | You, or any man living, may be drunk at a time, man. | |
| | I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the | |
| | general;—I may say so in this respect, for that he hath | |
| | devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark, and | |
| | denotement of her parts and graces:—confess yourself freely to | |
| | her; importune her help to put you in your place again: she is of | |
| | so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it | |
| | a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested: | |
| | this broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to | |
| | splinter; and, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this | |
| | crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | You advise me well. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will | |
| | beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me; I am | |
| | desperate of my fortunes if they check me here. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | You are in the right. Good-night, lieutenant; I must to the | |
| | watch. | |
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| | CASSIO: | |
| | Good night, honest Iago. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | And what's he, then, that says I play the villain? | |
| | When this advice is free I give and honest, | |
| | Probal to thinking, and, indeed, the course | |
| | To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy | |
| | The inclining Desdemona to subdue | |
| | In any honest suit: she's fram'd as fruitful | |
| | As the free elements. And then for her | |
| | To win the Moor,—were't to renounce his baptism, | |
| | All seals and symbols of redeemed sin,— | |
| | His soul is so enfetter'd to her love | |
| | That she may make, unmake, do what she list, | |
| | Even as her appetite shall play the god | |
| | With his weak function. How am I, then, a villain | |
| | To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, | |
| | Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! | |
| | When devils will the blackest sins put on, | |
| | They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, | |
| | As I do now: for whiles this honest fool | |
| | Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune, | |
| | And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, | |
| | I'll pour this pestilence into his ear,— | |
| | That she repeals him for her body's lust; | |
| | And by how much she strives to do him good, | |
| | She shall undo her credit with the Moor. | |
| | So will I turn her virtue into pitch; | |
| | And out of her own goodness make the net | |
| | That shall enmesh them all. | |
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| | RODERIGO: | |
| | I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that | |
| | hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is almost | |
| | spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well cudgelled; and I | |
| | think the issue will be—I shall have so much experience for my | |
| | pains: and so, with no money at all and a little more wit, return | |
| | again to Venice. | |
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| | IAGO: | |
| | How poor are they that have not patience! | |
| | What wound did ever heal but by degrees? | |
| | Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; | |
| | And wit depends on dilatory time. | |
| | Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, | |
| | And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio; | |
| | Though other things grow fair against the sun, | |
| | Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: | |
| | Content thyself awhile.—By the mass, 'tis morning; | |
| | Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.— | |
| | Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: | |
| | Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter; | |
| | Nay, get thee gone.[Exit Roderigo.]— | |
| | Two things are to be done,— | |
| | My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; | |
| | I'll set her on; | |
| | Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, | |
| | And bring him jump when he may Cassio find | |
| | Soliciting his wife. Ay, that's the way; | |
| | Dull not device by coldness and delay. | |
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