Cas. Not to-night, 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.

Cas. I have drunk but one cup to-night, 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.

Cas. Where are they?

Iago. Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. Cas. I'll do't; but it dislikes me. [Exit CASSIO. Iago. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, With that which he hath drunk to-night already, He'll be as full of quarrel and offence

As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool, Ro

derigo,

Whom love has turn'd almost the wrong side outward,
To Desdemona hath to-night 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 to-night fluster'd with flowing cups,

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

ards,

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.

Cas. 'Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already.

Mon. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.

Iago. Some wine, ho!

And let me the canakin clink, clink;

And let me the canakin clink :

A soldier's a man;

A life's but a span;

Why then let a soldier drink.

Some wine, boys!

[Sings.

[Wine brought in.

Cas. 'Fore heaven, 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.

Cas. 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.

Cas. To the health of our general.
Mon. I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
Iago. O sweet England!

King Stephen was 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!

Cas. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.

Iago. Will you hear it again?

Cas. No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place, that does those things. Well,-Heaven's above all; and there be souls that must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.

Iago. It's true, good lieutenant.

Cas. For mine own part,-no offence to the general, nor any man of quality, -I hope to be saved. Iago. And so do I too, lieutenant.

Cas. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to our affairs.-Forgive us our sins!-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 hand :-I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and speak well enough.

All. Excellent well.

Cas. Why, very well, then: you must not think then that I am drunk.

[Exit.

Mon. To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch.

Iago. You see this fellow, that is gone before;

He is a soldier, fit to stand by Cæsar

And give direction: and do but see his vice;
'Tis to his virtue a just equinox,

The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him.
I fear, the trust Othello puts him in,

On some odd time of his infirmity,

Will shake this island.

Mon. But is he often thus?

Iago. Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep;

He'll watch the horologe a double set,

If drink rock not his cradle.

Mon. It were well,

The general were put in mind of it.

Perhaps, he sees it not; or his good nature
Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio,
And looks not on his evils: Is not this true?

Enter RODERIGO.

Iago. How now, Roderigo ?

[Aside.

I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. [Exit RODERIGO.
Mon. And 'tis great pity, that the noble Moor

Should hazard such a place, as his own second,
With one of an ingraft infirmity:

It were an honest action, to say
So to the Moor.

Iago. Not I, for this fair island :

I do love Cassio well; and would do much

To cure him of this evil. But hark! what noise?

[Cry within,-Help, help!

Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO.

Cas. You rogue! you rascal!
Mon. What's the matter, lieutenant?

Cas. A knave!-teach me my duty!

I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.
Rod. Beat me!

Cas. Dost thou prate, rogue?
Mon. Nay, good lieutenant;
I pray you, sir, hold your hand.
Cas. Let me go, sir,

[Striking RODERIGO. [Staying him.

Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard.

Mon. Come, come, you're drunk.

Cas. Drunk!

[They fight.

[Aside to ROD. who goes out.

Iago. Away, I say! go out, and cry-a mutiny.

Nay, good lieutenant,-alas, gentlemen,

Help, ho!-Lieutenant, -sir,-Montano,-sir;

Help, masters!-Here's a goodly watch, indeed!

[Bell rings.

Who's that that rings the bell ?-Diablo, ho!

The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant! hold;
You will be sham'd for ever.

Enter OTHELLO, and Attendants.

Oth. What is the matter here?

Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to the death; he dies.

Oth. Hold, for your lives.

Iago. Hold, hold, lieutenant, sir, Montano,-gentlemen,

Have you forgot all sense of place and duty ?
Hold, hold! the general speaks to you; hold, for shame!
Oth. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd Turks; and to ourselves do that,
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?

For christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: