lago. 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,
Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may';
She that, being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;

150

She that in wisdom never was so frail

To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;
She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,

See suitors following and not look behind;
She was a wight, if ever such wight were,—
Des. To do what?

Iago. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.
Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not
learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband.
How say you, Cassio ? is he not a most profane
and liberal counsellor?

Cas. He speaks home, madam: you may relish him
more in the soldier than in the scholar.

160

Iago. [Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, whisper: with as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon 170 her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake![Trumpet within.] The Moor! I know his trumpet.

180

Oth. It gives me wonder great as my content

To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!

If after every tempest come such calms,

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas

Olympus-high, and duck again as low

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As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear,

That e'er our hearts shall make!

Iago.

And this, and this, the greatest discords be [Kissing her.

[Aside] O, you are well tuned now!

But I'll set down the pegs that make this music,

As honest as I am.

Oth.

Come, let us to the castle.

News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks are

How does my old acquaintance of this isle ?
Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus;

I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,

I prattle out of fashion, and I dote

In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,

Go to the bay, and disembark my coffers :

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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 all but Iago and Roderigo.

lago. Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come hither. 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 themlist me. The lieutenant to-night watches on the court of guard. First, I must tell thee this: 220 Desdemona is directly in love with him.

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

lago. Lay thy finger 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 230 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 un-
forced position-who stands so eminently in 240
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
humane seeming, for the better compassing of
his salt and most hidden loose affection? why,
none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave;
a finder out 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 250
all those requisites in him that folly and green
minds look after: a pestilent complete knave;
and the woman hath found him already.

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

lago. Blest fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made
of grapes; if she had been blest, she would
never have loved the Moor: blest 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.
lago. 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. Villanous thoughts,
Roderigo! when these mutualities so marshal
the way, hard at hand comes the master and

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main exercise, the incorporate conclusion: pish!
But, sir, be you ruled by me: I have brought
you from Venice. Watch you to-night; for 270
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.

lago. Sir, he is 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 these of 280 Cyprus to mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means I shall then have to prefer them, and the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity.

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

Iago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the 290 citadel: I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell.

Rod. Adieu.

Iago. That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it;

[Exit.

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 do love her too,