SCENE 1. A Seaport Town in CYPRUS. A Platform. Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen. Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea? 1 Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood; I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, Descry a sail. Mon. Methinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at land: A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, For do but stand upon the foaming shore, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: On th' enchaf'd 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; The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, That their designment halts: A noble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance 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, Touching the Turkish loss,-yet he looks sadly, Mon. As throw out our eyes for brave Othello; Even till we make the main, and the aerial blue, 3 Gent. Come, let's do so; . For every minute is expectancy Of more arrivance. 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! Mon. Is he well shipp'd? Cas. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot Of very expert and approv'd allowance; Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, [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. Cus. My hopes do shape him for the governor. Our friends, at least. [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; One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, And, in the essential vesture of creation, 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 Ïago; Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts, Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants. The riches of the ship is come on shore! Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees;- Enwheel thee round! my lord? Des. [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. [To Emilia. Good ancient, you are welcome;-Welcome, mis tress : Let it not gall your patience, good lago, That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her, lago. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, 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. lage. Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, [beds. Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your Des. 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. Emil. You shall not write my praise. lago. No, let me not. Des. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst Iago. O gentle lady, do not put me to't; [praise me? For I am nothing, if not critical. Des. Come on, assay:-There's one gone to the harbour? lago. Ay, madam. Des. I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.Come, how wouldst thou praise me? lago. I am about it; but, indeed, my invention Comes from my pate, as birdlime does from frize, It plucks out brains and all: But my muse labours, And thus she is deliver'd. If she be fair and wise,-fairness, and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it. Des. Well prais'd! 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? lago. 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 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? lago. She that was ever fair, and never proud; Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud; Never lack'd gold, and yet went never gay; Fled from her wish, and yet said,-now 1 may; She that, being anger'd, 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; |