and revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptial:—so much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open; and there is full liberty of feasting from this present hour of five till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. A Hall in the Castle.
[Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.]
OTHELLO
Good Michael, look you to the guard tonight:
Let’s teach ourselves that honourable stop,
Not to out-sport discretion.
CASSIO
Iago hath direction what to do;
But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
Will I look to’t.
OTHELLO
Iago is most honest.
Michael, good night: tomorrow with your earliest
Let me have speech with you.—[To Desdemona] Come, my dear love,—
The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue;
That profit’s yet to come ‘tween me and you.—
Goodnight.
[Exeunt Othello, Desdemona, and Attendants.]
[Enter Iago.]
CASSIO
Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch.
IAGO
Not this hour, lieutenant; ‘tis not yet ten o’ the clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and she is sport for Jove.
CASSIO
She’s a most exquisite lady.
IAGO
And, I’ll warrant her, full of game.
CASSIO
Indeed, she is a most fresh and delicate creature.
IAGO
What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley to provocation.
CASSIO
An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest.
IAGO
And when she speaks, is it not an alarm to love?
CASSIO
She is, indeed, perfection.
IAGO
Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello.
CASSIO
Not tonight, good Iago: I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.
IAGO
O, they are our friends; but one cup: I’ll drink for you.
CASSIO
I have drunk but one cup tonight, and that was craftily qualified too, and behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more.
IAGO
What, man! ‘tis a night of revels: the gallants desire it.
CASSIO
Where are they?
IAGO
Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
CASSIO
I’ll do’t; but it dislikes me.
[Exit.]
IAGO
If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
With that which he hath drunk tonight already,
He’ll be as full of quarrel and offense
As my young mistress’ dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo,
Whom love hath turn’d almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath tonight carous’d
Potations pottle-deep; and he’s to watch:
Three lads of Cyprus,—noble swelling spirits,
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle,—
Have I tonight fluster’d with flowing cups,
And they watch too. Now, ‘mongst this flock of drunkards,
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle:—but here they come:
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
[Re-enter Cassio; with him Montano and Gentlemen; followed by Servant with wine.]
CASSIO
‘Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already.
MONTANO
Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.
IAGO
Some wine, ho!
[Sings.]
“And let me the canakin clink, clink;
And let me the canakin clink.
A soldier’s a man;
O, man’s life’s but a span;
Why then let a soldier drink.”
Some wine, boys!
CASSIO
‘Fore God, an excellent song.
IAGO
I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied Hollander,—Drink, ho!—are nothing to your English.
CASSIO
Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
IAGO
Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.
CASSIO
To the health of our general!
MONTANO
I am for it, lieutenant; and I’ll do you justice.
IAGO
O sweet England!
[Sings.]
“King Stephen was and a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence 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!
CASSIO
Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
IAGO
Will you hear it again?
CASSIO
No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things.—Well,—God’s