MONTANO
I am glad on’t; ’tis a worthy governor.
THIRD GENTLEMAN
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
And prays the Moor be safe, for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
MONTANO
Pray heavens he be,
For I have served him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let’s to the sea-side, ho!—
As well to see the vessel that’s come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and th’aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
THIRD GENTLEMAN
Come, let’s do so,
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.
CASSIO
Thanks, you 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.
MONTANO Is he well shipped?
CASSIO
His barque is stoutly timbered, and his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance.
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.
VOICES (
within
)
A sail, a sail, a sail!
CASSIO What noise?
A GENTLEMAN
The town is empty. On the brow o‘th’ sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry ‘A sail!’
CASSIO
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
A shot
A GENTLEMAN
They do discharge their shot of courtesy—
Our friends, at least.
CASSIO I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who ’tis that is arrived.
A GENTLEMAN I shall.
Exit
MONTANO
But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?
CASSIO
Most fortunately. He hath achieved a maid
That paragons description and wild fame,
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
And in th’essential vesture of creation
Does tire the engineer.
How now, who has put in?
GENTLEMAN
’Tis one Iago, ensign to the general.
CASSIO
He’s had most favourable and happy speed.
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The guttered rocks and congregated sands,
Traitors ensteeped to enclog the guiltless keel,
As having sense of beauty do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.
MONTANO
What is she?
CASSIO
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 sennight’s speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love’s quick pants in Desdemona’s arms,
Give renewed fire to our extincted spirits,
And bring all Cyprus comfort.
Enter Desdemona, Iago, Emilia, and Roderigo
O, behold,
The riches of the ship is come on shore!
You men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Montano and the Gentlemen make curtsy to Desdemona
Hail to thee, lady, and the grace of heaven
Before, behind thee, and on every hand
Enwheel thee round!
DESDEMONA
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me of my lord?
CASSIO
He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught
But that he’s well and will be shortly here.
DESDEMONA
O, but I fear—how lost you company?
CASSIO
The great contention of the sea and skies
Parted our fellowship.
VOICES (
within
) A sail, a sail!
CASSIO But hark, a sail.
A GENTLEMAN
They give their greeting to the citadel.
This likewise is a friend.
CASSIO
See for the news.
Exit Gentleman
Good ensign, you are welcome. (
Kissing Emilia
)
Welcome, mistress.
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
That I extend my manners. ’Tis my breeding
That gives me this bold show of courtesy.
IAGO
Sir, would she give you so much of her lips
As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,
You would have enough.
DESDEMONA Alas, she has no speech!
IAGO In faith, too much.
I find it still when I ha’ leave to sleep.
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart,
And chides with thinking.
EMILIA
You ha’ little cause to say so.
IAGO
Come on, come on. You are pictures out of door,
Bells in your parlours; wildcats in your kitchens,
Saints in your injuries; devils being offended,
Players in your housewifery, and hussies in your beds.
DESDEMONA
O, fie upon thee, slanderer!
IAGO
Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk.
You rise to play and go to bed to work.
EMILIA
You shall not write my praise.
IAGO No, let me not.
DESDEMONA
What wouldst write of me, if thou shouldst praise me?
IAGO
O, gentle lady, do not put me to’t,
For I am nothing if not critical.
DESDEMONA
Come on, essay—there’s one gone to the harbour?
IAGO Ay, madam.
DESDEMONA
I am not merry, but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?
IAGO
I am about it, but indeed my invention
Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frieze—
It plucks out brains and all. But my muse labours,
And thus she is delivered:
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
The one’s for use, the other useth it.
DESDEMONA Well praised! 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.
DESDEMONA
Worse and worse.
EMILIA
How if fair and foolish?
IAGO
She never yet was foolish that was fair,
For even her folly helped her to an heir.
DESDEMONA These are old fond paradoxes, to make fools laugh i’th’ 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.
DESDEMONA O heavy ignorance! Thou praisest the worst best. But what praise couldst 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?
IAGO
She that was ever fair and never proud,
Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,
Never lacked gold and yet went never gay,
Fled from her wish, and yet said ‘Now I may’;
She that, being angered, her revenge being nigh,
Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly;
She that in wisdom never was so frail
To change the cod’s head for the salmon’s tail;
She that could think and ne’er disclose her mind,
See suitors following, and not look behind—
She was a wight, if ever such wights were—
DESDEMONA To do what?
IAGO
To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.
DESDEMONA O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say you, Cassio, is he not a most profane and liberal counsellor?
CASSIO He speaks home, madam. You may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar.
Cassio and Desdemona talk apart
IAGO (
aside
) He takes her by the palm. Ay, well said—whisper. With as little a web as this will I ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon her, do. I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. You say true, ‘tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had been better you had not kissed your three fingers so oft, which now again you are most apt to play the sir in. Very good, well kissed, an excellent curtsy, ’tis so indeed; yet again your fingers to your lips? Would they were clyster-pipes for your sake.
(
Aloud
) The Moor—I know his trumpet.
CASSIO ’Tis truly so.
DESDEMONA
Let’s meet him and receive him.
CASSIO Lo where he comes!
Enter Othello and attendants
OTHELLO (
to Desdemona
)
O my fair warrior!
DESDEMONA My dear Othello.
OTHELLO
It gives me wonder great as my content
To see you here before me. O my soul’s joy,
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have wakened death,
And let the labouring barque climb hills of seas
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
As hell’s from heaven. If it were now to die
’Twere now to be most happy, for I fear
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.
DESDEMONA The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow.
OTHELLO Amen to that, sweet powers!
I cannot speak enough of this content.
It stops me here, it is too much of joy.
And this, (
they kiss
) and this, the greatest discords be
That e’er our hearts shall make.
IAGO (
aside
) O, you are well tuned now,
But I’ll set down the pegs that make this music,
As honest as I am.
OTHELLO Come, let us to the castle.
News, friends: our wars are done, the Turks are
drowned.
How does my old acquaintance of this isle?—
Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus,
I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet,
I prattle out of fashion, and I dote
In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago,
Go to the bay and disembark my coffers.
Bring thou the master to the citadel.
He is a good one, and his worthiness
Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona.—
Once more, well met at Cyprus!
Exeunt Othello and Desdemona with all but lago and Roderigo
IAGO (
to an attendant as he goes out
) Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. (
To Roderigo
) Come hither. If thou beest valiant—as they say base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them—list me. The lieutenant tonight watches on the court of guard. First, I must tell thee this: Desdemona is directly in love with him.
RODERICO
With him? Why, ’tis not possible!
IAGO Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies. To love him still for prating?—let not thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed, and what delight shall she have to look on the devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there should be again to inflame it, and to give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, sympathy in years, manners, and beauties, all which the Moor is defective in. Now, for want of these required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, disrelish and abhor the Moor. Very nature will instruct her in it and compel her to some second choice. Now, sir, this granted—as it is a most pregnant and unforced position—who stands so eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio does?—a knave very voluble, no further conscionable than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane seeming for the better compass of his salt and most hidden loose affection. Why, none; why, none—a slipper and subtle knave, a finder of occasion, that has an eye can stamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never present itself, a devilish knave! Besides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all those requisites in him that folly and green minds look after. A pestilent complete knave, and the woman hath found him already.