Potations pottle deep; and he's to watch.
Three lads of Cyprus, noble fwelling spirits,
(That hold their honours in a wary diftance,
The very elements of this warlike iffe,)
Have I to night flufter'd with flowing cups,

And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,

Am I to put our Caffio in fome action

That may offend the ifle. But here they come.
If confequence do but approve my Deem, (18)
My boat fails freely, both with wind and ftream.

Enter Caffio, Montano, and Gentlemen.

.. Caf. 'Fore heav'n, they have given me a roufe already.

Mont. Good faith, a little one: not past a pint, as I am a foldier.

Jago. Some wine, ho!

And let me the canakin clink, clink,

And let me the canakin clink.

[Lago fings.

A foldier's a man; oh, man's life's but a spans
Why, then let a foldier drink.

Some wine, boys.

Caf. 'Fore heav'n, an excellent fong.

Iago. I learn'd it in England: where, indeed, they are most potent in potting. Your Dane, your Germax, and your fwag-belly'd Hollander, Drink, ho!-are

nothing to your English.

Caf. Is your Englishman fo exquifite in his drinking?

(18) If Confequence do but approve my Dream.] All the printed Copies concur in this Reading, but, I think, it does not come up to the Poet's Intention; I rather imagine that

he wrote,

If Confequence do but approve my Deem.

i. e. my Opinion, the Judgment I have form'd of what muft happen. So, in Troil. and Creffida ;

Cref. 1 true? how now? what wicked Deem is this?

lago. Why, he drinks you with facility your Dane dead drunk. He fweats not to overthrow your Almain. He gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle can be fill'd.

Caf. To the health of our General.

Mon. I am for it, lieutenant, and I'll do you juftice. lago. Oh fweet England.

King Stephen was an a worthy peer,
His breeches coft him but a crown ;
He held them fix pence 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.

Some wine, ho!

Caf. Why, this is a more exquifite fong than the other.

lago. Will you hear't again?

Caf. No, for I hold him to be unworthy of his place,

that does those things. Well

Heaven's above all; and there be fouls that must be faved, and there be fouls

must not be faved.

Iago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Caf. For mine own part, (no offence to the General, nor any man of quality;) I hope to be faved Iago. And fo I do too, lieutenant.

Caf. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me. The Lieutenant is to be faved before the Ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to our affairs. Forgive our fins 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 ftand well enough, and I speak well enough.

Gent. Excellent well. Caf. Why, very well then that I am drunk.

Manent Tago and Montano.

Mont. To the platform, masters; come, let's fet the
Watch.

lago. You fee this fellow, that is gone before; He is a foldier, fit to ftand by Cafar,

And give direction. And do but fee his vice;
'Tis to his virtues a juft equinox,

The one as long as th' other. 'Tis pity of him ;
I fear, the Truft Othello puts him in,
On fome odd time of his infirmity,

Will shake this island.

Mon. But is he often thus ?

lago. "Tis evermore the prologue to his fleep. He'll watch the horologue a double fet, If drink rock not his cradle.

Mont. It were well,

The General were put in mind of it :

Perhaps, he fees it not; or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Caffio,

And looks not on his evils: is not this true?

Enter Rodorigo.

Iago. How now, Roderigo!

I pray you, after the lieutenant, go.

[Exit Rod.

Mont. And 'tis great pity, that the noble Moor Should hazard fuch a Place as his own Second,

With one of an ingraft infirmity;

It were an honeft action to fay fo
Unto the Moor.

Iago. Not I, for this fair ifland;

I do love Caffio well, and would do much
To cure him of this evil. Hark, what noife?

[Within, help! help!

Re-enter Caffio, pursuing Rodorigo.

Caf. You rogue! you rafcal!

Mont. What's the matter, lieutenant ?

Caf. A knave teach me my duty! I'll beat the knave

into a twiggen bottle.

Rod.

Rod. Beat me

Caf. Doft thou prate, rogue?

Mont. Nay, good lieutenant;

I pray you, Sir, hold your hand.

[Staying him.

Caf. Let me go, Sir, or I'll knock you o'er the maz

zard.

Mont. Come, come, you're drunk.

Caf. Drunk?

[They fight.

lago. Away, I fay, go out and cry a mutiny.

[Exit Rodorigo

Nay, good lieutenant-Alafs, gentlemen

Help, ho!

-Lieutenant- Sir

Help, mafters! here's a goodly watch, indeed
Who's that, who rings the bell-

-Montano

-diablo, ho!
[Bell rings.

The town will rife. Fie, fie, lieutenant! hold:
You will be fham'd for ever.

Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Oth. What is the matter here?

Mont. I bleed ftill, I am hurt, but not to th' death.

Oth. Hold, for your lives.

Iago. Hold, ho! lieutenant

Gentlemen

Have you forgot all place of fenfe and duty?

The General speaks to you-hold, hold, for fhame-
Oth. Why, how now, ho? from whence arifeth this?
Are we turn'd Turks? and to our felves do That,
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For chriftian fhame, put by this barbarous brawl;
He, that ftirs next to carve for his own rage,
Holds his foul light: he dies upon his motion.
Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the ifle
From her propriety. What the matter?
Honeft lago, that looks dead with grieving,
Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee.
lago. I do not know; friends all, but now, even now
In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
Divesting them for bed; and then, but now
(As if fome planet had unwitted men,)
M 5

Swords

Swords out, and tilting one at other's breafts,
In oppofition bloody. I can't fpeak
Any beginning to this peevish odds,

And, would, in action glorious I had loft
Thofe legs that brought me to a part of it!

Oth. How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot?
Caf. I pray you, pardon me, I cannot speak.
Oth. Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil:
The gravity and ftillness of your youth

The world hath noted; And your name is great
In mouths of wifeft cenfure. What's the matter,
That you unlace your reputation thus,

And fpend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night-brawler? give me anfwer to it.

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger;

Your officer, lago, can inform you,

While I fpare fpeech, which fomething now offends me,
Of all that I do know; nor know I aught
By me that's faid or done amiss this night,
Unless felf-charity be fometimes a vice,
And to defend our felves it be a fin,
When violence affails us.

Oth. Now, by heav'n,

My blood begins my fafer guides to rule;
And paffion, having my belt judgment choler'd,
Affays to lead the way. If I once ftir,
Or do but lift this arm, the best of you
Shall fink in my rebuke. Give me to know
How this foul rout began; who fet it on ;
And he, that is approv'd in this offence,
Tho' he had twin'd with me both at a birth,
Shall lofe me.- -What, in a town of war,
Yet wild, the people's hearts brim-full of fear,
To manage private and domeftick quarrel?

In night, and on the Court of Guard and Safety; (19) 'Tis

(19) In night, and on the Court and Guard of Safety?] This is fpoken by Othello; but Guard of Safety, tho' coupled with a Word of Synonomous Conftruction, was never Soldier's Language. I have ventur'd to make the conjunction, and Sign of

the