Tis monftrous. Say, Iago, who began't?

Mon. If partially affin'd, or leagu'd in office, Thou doft deliver more or less than truth, Thou art no foldier.

Iago. Touch me not so near:

I'd rather have this tongue cut from my mouth,
Than it should do offence to Michael Caffio:
Yet I perfwade my self, to speak the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus 'tis, General:
Montano and my felf being in fpeech,
There comes a fellow crying out for help,
And Caffio following with determin'd fword,
To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman
Steps in to Caffio, and intreats his paufe;
My felf the crying fellow did pursue,
Left by his clamour (as it fo fell out)

The town might fall in fright. He, fwift of foot,
Out-ran my purpose: I return'd, the rather
For that I heard the clink and fall of swords,
And Caffio high in oath; which 'till to night
I ne'er might fay before. When I came back,
(For this was brief) I found them close together
At blow and thruft; even as again they were,
When you your felf did part them.

More of this matter cannot I report.

But men are men; the best fometimes forget;
Tho' Cafio did fome little wrong to him,
As men in rage strike those that wish them best,
Yet, furely, Caffio, I believe, receiv'd

From him, that fled, fome ftrange indignity,
Which patience could not pass.

Oth. I know, lago,

Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio.

Caffia, I love thee,

But never more be officer of mine.

the Genitive Cafe change Places: and fo the Phrafe in Vfe is reftor'd, tho' against the Authority of the printed Copies.

Enter

Enter Desdemona attended.

Look if my gentle love be not rais'd up:
I'll make thee an example.

Def. What's the matter?

Oth. All is well, Sweeting, come to bed.
Sir, for your hurts, my felf will be your furgeon.
Lead him off:

Jago, look with care about the town,

And filence those whom this vile brawl diftracted.
Come, Desdemona, 'tis the foldiers' life,

To have their balmy flumbers wak'd with ftrife.

Manent Iago and Caffio.

lago. What, are you hurt, lieutenant ?
Caf. Paft all Surgery.

lago. Marry, heav'n forbid !

[Exeunt.

Caf. Reputation, réputation, reputation! oh I have loft my reputation! I have loft the immortal part of my felf, and what remains is beftial. My reputation! Iago, my reputation

lago. As I am an honeft man, I had thought, you had receiv'd fome bodily wound; there is more fenfe in That than in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and moft falfe impofition; oft got without merit, and loft without deferving. You have loft no reputation at all, unlefs you repute your felf fuch a lofer. What, man,— there are ways to recover the General again. You are but now caft in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even fo as one would beat his offenceless dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he's yours.

Caf. I will rather fue to be defpis'd, than to deceive fo good a commander, with fo flight, fo drunken, and fo indifcreet an officer. Drunk, and fpeak? Parrot, and fquabble? fwagger? fwear? and difcourfe fuftian with one's own fhadow? oh thou invincible fpirit of wine! if thou haft no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.

Jago.

Iago. What was he that you follow'd with your fword? what had he done to you?

Caf. I know not.

Iago. Is't poffible?

Caf. I remember a mass of things, but nothing diftinctly: a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men fhould put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains that we should with joy, pleafance, revel, and applause, transform our felves into beafts. !

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recover'd?

Caf. It has pleas'd the devil, drunkenness, to give place to the devil, wrath; one unperfectness fhews me another, to make me frankly despise my self.

lago. Come, you are too fevere a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country ftands, I could heartily with this had not befallen: but fince it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

Caf. I will ask him for my Place again; he fhall tell mẹ, I am a drunkard! -had I as many mouths as Hydra, fuch an answer would ftop them all. To be now a fenfible man, by and by a fool, and prefently a beast! Every inordinate cup is unblefs'd, and

the ingredient is a devil.

lago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well us'd: exclaim no more againft it. And, good lieutenant, I think, you think, I love you. Caf. I have well approv'd it, Sir. I drunk!

Lago. You, or any man living, may be drunk at fome time, man. I tell you what you fhall do our general's wife is now the General. I may fay fo, in this refpect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark and denotement of her parts and graces (20). Confefs your felf freely to her importune

her

(20) For that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the Contemplation, Mark, and Devotement of her Parts and Graces.] I remember, it is faid of Antony, in the Beginning of his Tragedy, that He, who used to fix his Eyes altogether on the dread ful Ranges of War,

.--new

her help, to put you in your Place again. She is of fo free, fo kind, fo apt, fo bleffed a difpofition, the holds it a vice in her goodnefs not to do more than fhe is requested. This broken joint, between you and her husband, intreat her to fplinter.. And, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love fhall grow ftronger than it was before.

Caf. You advise me well.

Iago. I proteft, in the fincerity of love, and honeft: kindness.

Caf. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will befeech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: I am defperate of my fortunes, if they check me here.

lago. You are in the right: good night, lieutenant,

I must to the Watch.

Caf. Good night, honeft Tago,

Manet Lago.

[Exit Caffio.

Iago. And what's he then, that fays, I play the

villain?

When this advice is free I give, and honeft,
Likely to thinking, and, indeed, the courfe
To win the Moor again. For 'tis most easie
Th' inclining Desdemona to fubdue

In

any
honeft fuit; fhe's fram'd as fruitful
As the free elements. And then for her

To win the Moor, wer't to renounce his baptifm,
All feals and fymbols of redeemed fin,

His foul is fo enfetter'd to her love

That she may make, unmake, do what she lift,

-now bends, now turns,

The Office and Devotion of their View

Upon a Strumpet's Front.

This is finely exprefs'd; but I cannot perfwade my felf that our Poet would ever have faid, any one devoted himself to the Devotement of any thing. All the Copies agree; but the miftake certainly arofe from a fingle Letter being turn'd upfidedown at Prefs.

Even as her appetite fhall play the God
With his weak function. Am I then a villain,
To counsel Caffio to this parallel course,
Directly to his Good? Divinity of Hell!
When Devils will their blackest fins put on,
They do fuggeft at first with heav'nly Shews,
As I do now. -For while this honeft fool
Plies Defdemona to repair his fortune,
And the for him pleads ftrongly to the Moor;
I'll pour this peftilence into his ear,

That the repeals him for her body's luft :
And by how much the ftrives to do him good,
She fhall 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. How now, Rodorigo!
Enter Rodorigo.

Rad. I do follow here in the chace, not like a hound that hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My mony is almost fpent; I have been to night exceedingly well cudgelled; and, I think, the iffue will be, I fhall have fo much experience for my pains; and fo with no mony at all, and a little more wit, return again to Venice. Iago. How poor are they, that have not patience? What wound did ever heal but by degrees;

Thou know'ft, we work by wit, and not by witchcraft;
And wit depends on dilatory time :

Does't not go well? Caffio hath beaten thee,
And thou by that small hurt haft cashier'd Caffio.
Tho' other things grow fair against the Sun,
Yet fruits, that bloffom firft, will firft be ripe:
Content thy felf a while. In troth, 'tis morning:
Pleasure and action make the hours feem fhort.
Retire thee; go where thou art billeted :
Away, I fay; thou shalt know more hereafter:
Nay, get thee gone.

Two things are to be done; (21

(21) Two things are to be done;

Exit Rodorigo.

My Wife must move for Caffio to her Mistress,

My