SCENE XI. Manent Iago and Montano. Mont. To the platform, masters; come, let's fet the watch.

Iago. You fee this fellow that is gone before; He is a foldier, fit to stand by Cæ'ar,

And give direction. And do but see his vice;
'Tis to his virtues a just 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 fhake this ifland.

Mont. But is he often thus ?

lao. '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 be 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.

lago. How now, Rodorigo?

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 fecond,

With one of an ingraft infirmity;

It were an honest action to say so
Unto the Moor,

lago. Not 1, for this fair island;

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 rascal!

Mont. What's the matter, Lieutenant?

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

into a twiggen bottle.

Rod. Beat me

Caf. Doft thou prate, rogue?

Mont, Nay, good Lieutenant;

Ipray you, Sir, hold your hand.

[Staying him.

1

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

zard.

Mont. Come, come, you're drunk.

Caf. Drunk?

Iago. Away, I fay; go out, and cry a mutiny.

[They fight.

[Exit Rodorigo.

-Alas, Gentlemen

Nay, good Lieutenant-
Help, ho! -Lieutenant -Sir- -Montano-
Help, mafters! here's a goodly watch indeed-
Who's that who rings the bell-diablo, ho!

[Bell rings.
The town will rife. Fie, fie, Lieutenant! hold:
You will be fham'd for ever.

SCENE XII. 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-Sir-Montano

Gentlemen

Have you forgot all fenfe of place and duty?
The General peaks 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 flirs 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 is the matter?
Honeft lago, that looks dead with grieving, .
Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee.
Iago. I do not know; friends all, but now, even now

In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom
Divefting them for bed; and then, but now

(As if fome planet had unwitted men),

Swords out, and tilting one at other's breasts,
In oppofition bloody. I can't speak
Any beginning to this peevith odds,
And 'would in action glorious I had lost

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 to be civil: The gravity and ftillness of your youth

The world hath noted; and your name is great
What's the matter,
In mouths of wifeft cenfure.

That you unlace your reputation thus,

And spend your rich opinion, for the name
Of a night brawler? give me answer to it.

Mont. 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 amifs this night,
Unless felf-charity* be fometimes a vice,,
And to defend ourselves 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 judgement choler'd;.
Affays to lead the way. If I once flir,

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 set it on;
And he that is approved in this offence,

Tho' he had twinn'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 domeftic quarrel?
In night, and on the court and guard of safety?
'Tis monftrous, Say, Iago, who began't?

Mont. 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 fo near:

I'd rather have this tongue cut from my mouth,
Than it fhould do offence to Michael Caffio:
Yet I perfuade myfelf, to speak the truth
Shall nothing wrong him. Thus 'tis, General :
Montano and myfelf being in fpeech,,

felf charity, for charity inherent in the perfon's nature.

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 Caflio, and intreats his paufe;
Myfelf the crying fellow did purfue,
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 fwords,
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; ev'n as again they were,
When you yourself did part them.

More of this matter cannot I report.
But men are men; the best fometimes forget:
Tho' Caffio did fome little wrong to him,

As men in rage strike those that wish them beft;
Yet furely Caffio, I believe, receiv'd

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

Oth. I know, Iago,

Thy honelty and love doth mince this matter,
Making it light to Caffio. Caffio, I love thee;
But never more be officer of mine.

Enter Defdemona 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, fweeting, come to bed,
Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your furgeon.
Lead him off.

Jago, look with care about the town,

And filence thofe whom this vile brawl distracted,
Come, Desdemona; 'tis the foldier's life,

To have their balmy flumbers wak'd with ftrife.

[Exeunt.

SCENE XIII. Manent lago and Caffio.

Lago. What, are you hurt, Lieutenant?
Caf. Palt all furgery.

Iago. Marry, Heav'n forbid !

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

Iago. As I am an honest man, I had thought you had receiv'd fome bodily wound; there is more sense 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 yourself such a loser, 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 offencelefs dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him a gain, and he's your's.

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 speak parrot*? and fquabble? fwagger? fwear? and discourse fuftian with one's own fhadow? Oh thou invincible spirit of wine if thou haft no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.

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 fhould with joy, pleafance, revel, and applaufe, transform ourselves into beafts.

lago. 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 unperfectnefs thews me another, to make me frankly defpife myself.

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