thus. Our bodies are our gardens; to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts: whereof I take this, that you call-love, to be a sect, * or scion.

Rod. It cannot be.

Tago. It is merely a lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: Drown thyself? drown cats, and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness; I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow these wars; defeat thy favour with an usurped beard; + I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be, that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor,-put money in thy purse; nor he his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou shalt see an answerable sequestration ;-put but money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in their wills; fill thy purse with money: the food that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body, she will find the error of her choice.-She must have change, she must: therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money thou canst: If sanctimony and a frail vow, betwixt an erring § barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian, be not too hard for my wits, and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way seek thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy, than to be drowned and go without her.

Rod. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue? Iago. Thou art sure of me ;-Go, make money:-I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor: My cause is hearted: thine hath no less reason: Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost thyself a pleasure and me a sport. There are many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse ;] go; provide thy money. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu.

Rod. Where shall we meet i' the morning?

Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo ?

Rod. What say you?

Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear.

† Change your countenance with a false beard.

* Cutting.

Corresponding separation.

§ Wandering.

March.

Rod. I am changed. I'll sell all my land.

Iago. Go to; farewell: put money enough in your purse. [Exit RODERIGO.

Thus do I ever make my fool my purse:

For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane,
If I would time expend with such a snipe,
But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor;
And is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets
He has done my office: I know not if't be true;
But I, for mere suspicion in that kind,
Will do, as if for surety. He holds * me well:
The better shall my purpose work on him.
Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now;
To get his place, and to plume up my will;
A double knavery,-How? how ?-Let me see:
After some time, to abuse Othello's ear,
That he is too familiar with his wife :-
He hath a person, and a smooth dispose,
To be suspected; framed to make women false.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,

That thinks men honest that but seem to be so;
And will as tenderly be led by the nose,

As asses are.

I have't, it is engender'd:-Hell and night

Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A Sea-port Town in CYPRUS. A Platform. Enter MONTANO and Two GENTLEMEN.

Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood; I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,

Descry a sail.

Mon. 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?
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-shaked 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 th' enchafed 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.

* Esteems.

Enter a third GENTLEMAN.

3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done;

The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
That there designment halts: A noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance

On most part of their flect.

Mon. How is this true?

3 Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronesé; 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.

Mon. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.

3 Gent. 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.

Mon. 'Pray heaven he be;

For I have served 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 throw out our eyes for brave Othello;

Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue,
An indistinct regard.

3 Gent. Come, let's do so; For every minute is expectancy

Of more arrivance.

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!

Mon. Is he well shipp'd?

Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot

Of very expert and approved 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 sca Stand ranks of people, and they cry-a sail.

Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governor.

2 Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy:

Our friends, at least.

Cas. I pray you, Sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.

2 Gent. I shall.

* Complete.

VOL. IV.

[Guns heard.

[Exit.

† Allowed and approved expertness.

Erect themselves in full confidence.

2 K

Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achieved 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 one Iago, 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,-
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-
As having sense of beauty, do omit

Their mortalt natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.

Mon. What is she?

Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold fago;

Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts,

A se'enight'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;-
Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round.

Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
Cas. He is not yet arrived; nor know I aught
But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Des. O, but I fear;-How lost you company?
Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies
Parted our fellowship: But, hark! a sail.

[Cry within A sail, a sail! Then guns heard. 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel: This likewise is a friend.

Cas. See for the news.

[Exit GENTLEMAN.

Good ancient, you are welcome;-Welcome, mistress:

Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,

That I extend my manners: 'tis my breeding
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
Iago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips,

[TO EMILIA.

[Kissing her.

As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You'd have enough.

Des. 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.

Emil. 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.
Des. 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.
Emil. You shall not write my praise.

Iago. No, let me not.

Des. 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. †

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 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.

Des. Well praised! 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.

Des. Worse and worse.

Emil. How, if fair and foolish?

Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair;

For even her folly help'd her to an heir.

Des. 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.

Des. 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 every 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;

* Desire.

+ Censorious.

+ Foolish.