Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/833

Rh Cas. He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought But that he's well, and will be shortly here.

Des. Oh, but I feare: How lost you company?

Cassio. The great Contention of Sea, and Skies Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile.

Within. A Saile, a Saile.

Gent. They giue this greeting to the Cittadell: This likewise is a Friend.

Cassio. See for the Newes: Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris: Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago) That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding, That giues me this bold shew of Curtesie.

Iago. Sir, would she giue you so much of her lippes, As of her tongue she oft bestowes on me, You would haue enough.

Des. Alas: she ha's no speech.

Iago. Infaith too much: I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe. Marry before your Ladyship, I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.

Æmil. You haue little cause to say so.

Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended: Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your Beds.

Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer.

Iago. Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke, You rise to play, and go to bed to worke.

Æmil. You shall not write my praise.

Iago. No, let me not.

Desde. What would'st write of me, if thou should'st praise me?

Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too't, For I am nothing, if not Criticall.

Des. Come on, assay. There's one gone to the Harbour?

Iago. I Madam.

Des. I am not merry: but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. Come, how would'st thou praise me?

Iago. I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she is deliuer'd. If she be faire, and wise: fairenesse, and wit, The ones for vse, the other vseth it.

Des. Well prais'd: How if she be Blacke and Witty?

Iago. If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit, She'le find a white, that shall her blacknesse fit.

Des. Worse, and worse.

Æmil. How if Faire, and Foolish?

Iago. She neuer yet was foolish that was faire, For euen her folly helpt her to an heire.

Desde. These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles laugh i'th'Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's Foule, and Foolish.

Iago. There's none so foule and foolish thereunto, But do's foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do.

Desde. Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deseruing woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it selfe.

Iago. She that was euer faire, and neuer proud, Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud: Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said now I may. She that being angred, her reuenge being nie, Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flie: She that in wisedome neuer was so fraile, To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile: She that could thinke, and neu'r disclose her mind, See Suitors following, and not looke behind: She was a wight, (if euer such wightes were)

Des. To do what?

Iago. To suckle Fooles, and chronicle small Beere.

Desde. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do not learne of him Æmillia, though he be thy husband. How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and liberall Counsailor?

Cassio. He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler.

Iago. He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whisper. With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee in thine owne Courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenantrie, it had beene better you had not kiss'd your three fingers so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss'd, and excellent Curtsie: 'tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your sake. The Moore I know his Trumpet.

Cassio. 'Tis truely so.

Des. Let's meete him, and recieue him.

Cassio. Loe, where he comes.

Oth. O, my faire Warriour.

Des. My deere Othello.

Othe. It giues me wonder great, as my content To see you heere before me. Oh my Soules Ioy: If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes, May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death: And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas Olympus high: and duck againe as low, As hell's from Heauen. If it were now to dye, 'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare, My Soule hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this, Succeedes in vnknowne Fate.

Des. The Heauens forbid But that our Loues And Comforts should increase Euen as our dayes do grow.

Othe. Amen to that (sweet Powers) I cannot speake enough of this content, It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy. And this, and this the greatest discords be That ere our hearts shall make.

Iago. Oh you are well tun'd now: But Ile set downe the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am.