With that which he hath drunk to-night already,
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence,
As my young mistress's dog.-
Now, my sick fool, Rodorigo,
Whom love hath turned almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath to-night carouzed
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 Austered 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 deem,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.

Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentleman.

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

Mont. Good faith, a little one: not past a pint, as I am a soldier. Iago. Some wine, ho!

[lago sings.
And let me the canakin, clink, clink,
And let me the canakin clink.
A soldier's a man; oh, man's life's but a span;

Why, then let a soldier drink.
Some wine, boys.

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 exquisite 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 bottle canbe filled. . · Cas. To the health of our general.

Mont. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you
justice.
Iago. Oh 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 call’d the tailor lown. (46)
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.
Some wine ho!

(46) Tailor lown. This may put the reader in mind of Hudibras's Ralph, who is the same as lago, and is often likened to a tailor. High and low in the same song may relate to the librations of the moon.

OV

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

Iago. Will your hear't again? . Cas. No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does these 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 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. (47)

Gent. Excellent well. .

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

[Exit. Manent Iago and MONTANO. · Mont. To the platform, masters ; come, let's

set the watch.

(47). Cassio's legs, in his prototype, are straddling out one from the other, like those of a drunken man.

lago. 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 virtues 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.

Mont. But is he often thus ?

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

Mont. 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 RODORIGO.
Iago. How now, Rodorigo ?
I pray you, after the lieutenant, go. [Exit. Rod.

Mont. 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 Unto the Moor.

Iago. Not I, for this fair island; I do love Cassio well, and would do much To cure him of this evil. Hark, what noise ? .

[Within, Help! help!

Re-enter Cassio, pursuing Rodorigo.
Cas. You rogue ! you rascal !
Mont. What's the matter, lieutenant ?

Cas. A knave teach me my duty! I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. (48)

Rod. Beat me,
Cas. Dost thou prate, rogue ?

Mont. 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. (49)

Mont. Come, come, you're drunk.
Cas. Drunk ?--

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

(Exit Rodorigo. Nay, good lieutenant- Alas, gentlemen Help, ho!----lieutenant- Sir— Montano--Help, masters ! here's a goodly watch, indeed Who's that who rings the belldiable, ho!

[Bell rings. The town will rise. Fie, fie, lieutenant ! hold: You will be ashamed for ever.

(48) A twiggen bottle. Observe the person of Rodorigo in the moon, as covered with streaks of light resembling twigs.

(49) Knock you o'er the mazzard. Vide the streak of light, or mark as of a blow on or near Montano's mouth, in fig. 101, and more particularly in its prototype.