And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:" On th' enchafed flood. Mon. If that the Turkish fleet Be not inshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd; Enter a third Gentleman. 3 Gent. News, lords! our wars are done; On most part of their fleet. Mon. How! is this true? 3 Gent. The ship is here put in, A Veronesé; Michael Cassio, Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello, comfort, though he speak of Touching the Turkish loss, -yet he looks sadly, 'Pray heaven he be; Mon. 3 Gent. Come, let's do so; For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance. 9 And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:] Alluding to the star Arctophylax. Like a full soldier.] Like a complete soldier. Enter CASSIO. Cas. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike isle, That so approve the Moor; O, let the heavens Give him defence against the elements, For I have lost him on a dangerous sea! Of Mon. Is he well shipp'd? Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot [Within.] A sail, a sail, a sail! Enter another Gentleman. Cas. What noise? 4 Gent. The town is empty; on the brow o'the sea Stand ranks of people, and they cry—a sail. Cas. My hopes do shape him for the governour. 2 Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy: Our friends, at least. Cas. [Guns heard. I pray you, sir, go forth, And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd. 2 Gent. I shall. [Exit. Mon. But, good lieutenant, is your general wiv'd? Cas. Most fortunately: he hath achiev'd a maid That paragons description, and wild fame; 2 Of very expert and approv'd allowance;] Expert and approv'd allowance is put for allow'd and approv'd expertness. This mode of expression is not unfrequent in Shakspeare. 3 Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, Stand in bold cure.] Presumptuous hopes, which have no foundation in probability, may poetically be said to surfeit themselves to death, or forward their own dissolution. To stand in bold cure, is to erect themselves in confidence of being fulfilled. Does bear all excellency. How now? who has put in? Re-enter second Gentleman. 2 Gent. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. Their mortal natures, letting go safely by Mon. What is she? Cas. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago; Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts, A se'nnight's speed. - Great Jove, Othello guard, Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, LAGO, RODERIGO, and The riches of the ship is come on shore! Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees: Enwheel thee round! Des. I thank you, valiant Cassio. What tidings can you tell me of my lord? 4 And in the essential vesture of creation, Does bear all excellency.] The author seems to use essential for existent, real. She excels the praises of invention, says he, and in real qualities, with which creation has invested her, bears all excellency. 5 Their mortal natures,] i. e. their deadly, destructive natures. Cas. He is not yet arriv'd; nor know I aught But that he's well, and will be shortly here. ACT II. Des. O, but I fear;- How lost you company? Cas. The great contention of the sea and skies Parted our fellowship: But, hark! a sail. [Cry within, A sail, a sail! Then Guns heard. 2 Gent. They give their greeting to the citadel; This likewise is a friend. Cas. See for the news. [Exit Gentleman. Good ancient, you are welcome; - Welcome, mis Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, [TO EMILIA. That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her. As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You'd have enough. Des. Alas, she has no speech. Iago. In faith, too much; I find it still, when I have list to sleep: Emil. You have little cause to say so. Iago. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, beds. Des. O, fye upon thee, slanderer! Iago. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk; You rise to play, and go to bed to work. Emil. You shall not write my praise. Saints in your injuries, &c.] When you have a mind to do injuries, you put on an air of sanctity. Iago. No, let me not. Des. What would'st thou write of me, if thou should'st praise me? Iago. O gentle lady, do not put me to❜t; For I am nothing, if not critical.7 Des. Come on, assay: There's one gone to the harbour? Iago. Ay, madam. Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile Iago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention If she be fair and wise, fairness, and wit, The one's for use, the Des. Well prais'd! other useth it. How if she be black and witty? Iago. If she be black, and thereto have a wit, She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. Des. Worse and worse. Emil. How, if fair and foolish? Iago. She never yet was foolish that was fair; For even her folly help'd her to an heir. Des. These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i'the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish? Iago. There's none so foul, and foolish thereunto, But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. Des. O heavy ignorance!-thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed? one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? 8 74 critical.] That is, censorious. one, that, in the authority of her merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself?] The sense is this, one that was so conscious of her own merit, and of the authority her character had |