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I have told thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I hate the Moor. My caufe is hearted; thine hath no lefs reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge against him. If thou canft cuckold him, thou doft thyself a pleasure, and me a sport. There are

many events in the womb of time, which will be delivered. Traverse, go. Provide thy mony. We will have more of this to-morrow. Adieu.

Rod. Where fhall we meet i'th' morning?
Iago. At my lodging.

Rod. I'll be with thee betimes.

Iago. Go to, farewel. Do you hear, Rodorigo?
Rod. What fay you?

Iago. No more of drowning, do you hear.

Rod. I am chang'd. I'll go fell all my land.

Jago. "Go to, farewel, put mony enough in your [Exit Rodorigo.



Manet Iago.

lago. Thus do I ever make my foo! my purse;
For I mine own gain'd knowledge fhould profane,
If I should time expend with fuch a snipe,
But for my fport and profit. I hate the Moor,
And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my fheets
He has done my office. I know not, if't be true;
But I, for mere fufpicion in that kind,
Will do, as if for furety. He holds me well;
The better shall my purpose work on him."
Caffio's a proper man. Let me fee now ;-
To get his place, and to plume up my Will,
A double knavery-How? how?-Let's fee-
After fome time t' abufe Othello's ear,


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That he is too familiar with his wife

He hath a perfon, and a smooth dispose,
To be fufpected; fram'd to make women falfe.
The Moor is of a free and open nature,

That thinks men honest that but seem to be fo;
And will as tenderly be led by th' nose,

As affes are.

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I have't—it is engender'd-Hell and Night

Muft bring this monftrous birth to the world's light.



The capital City of Cyprus.

Enter Montano, Governor of Cyprus, and Gentlemen.



HAT from the cape, can you difcern at fea?
1 Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high-wrought

I cannot 'twixt the heaven and the main

Descry a fail.

Mont. Methinks the wind hath fpoke aloud at land; A fuller blaft ne'er fhook our battlements;

If it hath ruffian'd fo upon the fea,

What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortife? What fhall we hear of this?
2 Gent. A fegregation of the Turkish fleet;
For do but ftand upon the foaming fhore,


The chiding billows feem to pelt the clouds; The wind-fhak'd furge, with high and monftrous main,

Seems to caft water on the burning Bear,

7 And quench the guards of th' ever-fixed pole. I never did like moleftation view

On the enchafed flood.

Mont. If that the Turkifb fleet

Be not infhelter'd and embay'd, they're drown'd;
It is impoffible to bear it out.


Enter a third Gentleman.

3 Gent. News, Lads, our wars are done : The defperate tempeft hath fo bang'd the Turks, That their defignment halts. A noble fhip of Venice Hath feen a grievous wreck and fufferance

Of moft part of the fleet.

Mont. How! is this true?

3 Gent. The ship is here put in,

A Veronefe; Michael Caffio,

Lieutenant of the warlike Moor Othello,

Is come on fhore; the Moor himfelf's at fea,
And is in full commiffion here for Cyprus.

Mont. I'm glad on't; 'tis a worthy Governor.
3 Gent. But this fame Caffio, though he fpeak of


Touching the Turkish lofs, yet he looks fadly,
And prays the Moor be fafe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempeft.

And quench the guards of th' ever-fixed pole. ] Alluding to the far Arophylax.

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Mont. Pray heav'ns, he be:

For I have ferv'd him, and the man commands
Like a full foldier. Let's to the fea-fide,

As well to fee the veffel that's come in,

As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Ev'n till we make the main and th' aerial blue
An indiftin&t regard.

Gent. Come, let's do fo;

For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.


Enter Caffio.

Caf. Thanks to the valiant of this warlike ifle,
That fo approve the Moor: oh, let the heav'ns
Give him defence against the elements,
For I have loft him on a dangerous fea.
Mont. Is he well-shipp'd?

Caf. His bark is ftoutly timber'd; and his pilot 9 Of very expert and approv'd allowance;

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Caf. What noife?

Gent. The town is empty; on the brow o' th' fea Stand ranks of people, and they cry, a fail.

Caf. My hopes do fhape him for the Governor. Gent. They do discharge their shot of courtesy. Our friends, at least.

[Sound of Cannon.

Caf. I pray you, Sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arriv'd.

Gent. I fhall.


Mont. But, good lieutenant, is your General wiv'd? Caf. Most fortunately: He hath atchiev'd a maid That paragons description and wild fame;

One that excels the quirks of blaz'ning pens, ' And in th' effential vefture of creation

• Does bear all excellency

'And in th' ESSENTIAL - That all created

ture of creation Does bear all excellency- -] It is plain that fomething very hyperbolical was here intended. But what is there as it ftands? Why this, that in the effence of creation he bore all excellency. The expreffion is intolerable, and could never come from one who fo well understood the force of words as our Poet. The effential vefture is the fame as effential form. So that the expreffion is nonfenfe. For the vesture of creation fignifies the forms in which created beings are caft. And effence relates not to the firm, but to the matter. Shakespear certainly wrote,

And in TERRESTRIAL vesture of creation. And in this lay the wonder,


fhould be contained within an earthly mortal form. WARB.

I do not think_the_prefent reading inexplicable. The authour feems to use effential, for existent, real. She excels the praifes of invention, fays he, and in real qualities, with which creation has invefted her, bears all excellency.


2 Dies bear all excellency—] Such is the reading of the tos, for which the folio has this, And in th' effential vefture of


Do's tyre the ingeniuer.
Which I explain thus,

Does tire th' ingenious verse, This is the best reading, and that which the authour fubftituted in his revifal.

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