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And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus high, and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven! if I 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.

Des. The Heavens forbid,

But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow!

Oth. 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

That e'er our hearts shall make !

[Kissing her.

Iago. Oh, you are well-tuned now; but I'll let down the pegs that make this music as honest as

I am.

Oth. Come, let's to the castle.

[Aside. [drowned.

Now, friends, our wars are done; the Turks are
How do our old acquaintance of this isle?

Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus,
I've found great love amongst them. Oh, my sweet,

I prattle out of fashion, and I doat

In mine own comfort. Pr'ythee, 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 and Desdemona.

Manent IAGO and RODORIGO.

Iago. Do you meet me presently at the harbour. Come thither, 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 Desdemoną is directly in love with him.

Rod. With him? why, 'tis not possible.

Iago. Lay thy fingers 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 eminent 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 human seeming, for the better compassing of his salt and most hidden loose affection; a slippery and subtle knavé, a finder 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 compleat knave! and the woman hath found him already.

Rod. I cannot believe that of her; she's full of most blessed condition.

Iago. Blessed figs' 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?

Rod. 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, Rodorigo! when these mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes the master and main exercise, the incorporate conclusion: pish-But, Sir, be you rul'd 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.

Rod. Well.

Iago. Sir, he's rash, and very sudden in choler: and, haply may strike at you. Provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I cause those of Cyprus to mutiny: whose qualification shall come into no true taste again, but by displanting of Cassio. So shall you have à shorter journey to your desires, by the means I shall then have to prefer them: and the impediments most profitably removed, without which there was no expectation of our prosperity.

Rod. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.

Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I must fetch his necessaries ashore.

Farewel.

Rod. Adieu.

[Exit.

Manet IAGO.

lago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe: 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 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 leapt 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 evened with him, wife for wife:
Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor
At least into a jealousy so strong,

That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do,
If this poor brach of Venice, whom I trace
For his quick hunting, stand the putting on,
I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the right 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 practising upon his peace and quiet,
Even to madness. 'Tis here-but yet confused;
Knavery's plain face is never seen, 'till used.

[Exit.

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