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Rod. With him? why, 'tis not poffible.

lag. Lay thy fingers thus; and let thy foul be inftructed. Mark me with what violence fhe first loved the Moor, but for bragging, and telling her fantastical lies. And will the love him ftill for thy difcreet heart think it.

prating let not

eye must be fed. And what delight shall she have to look on the Devil? (25) When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there fhould be again to in Hame it, and to give fatiety a fresh appetite, lovelinefs in favour, fympathy 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, difrelith and abhor the Moor; very nature will inftruct her in it, and compel her to fome fecond choice. Now, Sir, this granted, (as it is a mot pregnant and unforced pofition) who stands fo eminent in the degree of this fortune as Caffio does? a knave very voluble; no further conscionable, than in putting on the mere form of civil and humane feeming, for the better compaffing of his falt and most hidden loose affection; a flippery and fubtle knave, a finder of occafions,

(25) When the blood is made dull with the act of sport, there fould be a game to infl me it, and to give fatiety a fresh appetite; lovelines in favour, fympathy in years, manners, and beauties.] This, 'tis true, is the reading of the generality of the copies: but, methinks, 'tis a very peculiar experiment, when the blood and fpirits are dulled and exhausted with sport, to raife and recruit them by fport: for fport and game are but two words for the fame thing. I have retrieved the pointing and reading of the elder Quarto, which certainly gives us the Poet's fenfe; that, when the blood is dulled with the exercife of pleasure, there should be proper incentives on each fide to raise it again, as the charms of beauty, equality of years, and agreement of manners and difpofition: which were wanting in Othello to rekindle Defdemona's patlica

that has an eye can ftamp and counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never prefent itself. A devilish kaave! befides, the knave is handsome, young, and hath all thofe requifites in him, that folly and green minds look after. A peftilent compleat knave! and the woman hath found him. already.

Rad. I cannot believe that of her; fhe's full of moft bleffed condition.

Iago Bleffed figs' end! the wine fhe drinks is made of grapes. If he had been blessed, she would. never have loved the Moor: Bleffed pudding! didst thou not fee her paddle with the palm of his hand? didt not mark that?

Rod. Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy.. Iago. Letchery, by this hand; an index, and obfcure prologue to the history of luft, and foul thoughts. They met fo near with their lips, that their breaths embraced together. Villainous thoughts, Rodorigo! when thefe mutualities fo marfhal the way, hard at hand comes the mater and main exercife, the incorporate conclufion: pith-But, Sir, be you ruled by me. I have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Caffio knows you not: I'll not be far from you. Do you find some occafion to anger Caffio, either by fpeaking too loud, cr tainting his difcipline, or from what other courfe you pleafe, which the time fhall more favourably minifter.

Rod. Well.

Lago. Sir, he's rafh, and very fudden in choler: and, haply, may strike at you. Provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I caufe thofe of Cyprus to mutiny: whofe qualification fhall come into no true taste again, but by displanting of Caf

fio. So fhall you have a fhorter journey to your defires, by the means I fhall then have to prefer them and the impediments moft profitably remo ved, without which there was no expectation of our profperity.

Rod. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity.

lago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel. I must fetch his neceffaries afhore. Fare wel.

Rod. Adieu.

Manet IAGO.

[Exit.

Tago. That Caffio loves her, I do well believe: That the loves him, 'tis apt, and of great credit. The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, Is of a conftant, loving, noble nature; And, I dare think, he'll prove to Desdemona A moft dear husband. Now I love her too, Not out of abfolute luft, (though, peradventure, I ftand accountant for as great a fin ;) But partly led to diet my revenge,

For that I do fufpect the lufty Moor

Hath leapt into my feat. The thought whereof
Doth, like a poifonous mineral, gnaw my inwards
And nothing can, or fhall, content my fonl,
Till I am evened with him, wife for wife:
Or failing fo, yet that I put the Moor

At least into a jealoufy fo ftrong,

That judgment cannot cure. (26) Which thing to If this poor brach of Venice, whom I trace

(26)

Which thing to do,

If this poor trafh of Venice, whom I trace

[do,

For his quick butig, and the putting or.] A trifling infignificant fellow may, in some refpects, very well be calle trash; but what confonance of metaphor is there betwize

For his quick hunting, ftand the putting on
I'll have our Michael Caffio on the hip,
Abuse him to the Moor in the right garb;
(For I fear Caffio with my night-cap too);
Make the Moor thank me, love me, and reward me,
For making him egregioufly an afs;

And practifing upon his peace and quiet,
Even to madness. 'Tis here--but yet confufed;
Knavery's plain face is never feen, 'till ufed. [Exit.

SCENE, the Street.

Enter Herald with a Proclamation.

Her. It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant General, that upon certain tidings now arrived: importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, every man put himself into triumph: fome to dance,、 fome to make bonefires, each man to what fport and revels his mind leads him. For, befides this beneficial news, it is the celebration of his nuptials. So much was his pleasure fhould be proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full liberty of feafting, from this prefent hour of five, till the bellhave told eleven. Bless the ifle of Cyprus, and our Joble General. Othello!

[Exit

traf and quick hunting, and standing the putting on? The allufion to the chafe Shakespeare feems to be fond of applying to Rodorigo, who fays of himself towards the conclufion of this act;

I follow her in the chafe, not like a bound that hunts, but: one that fills up the сту

I have a great fufpicion, therefore, that the Poet wrote; If this poor brach of Venice;

which, we know, is a degenerate fpecies of hound, and a term generally ufed in contempt: and this compleats and perfet the metaphorical allufion, and makes it much more fatirical.

Mr: Warburton

SCENE, the Caftle.

Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and
Attendants.

Oth. Good Michael, look you to the guard toLet's teach ourfelves that honourble.top, [night: Not to out-fport difcretion.

Caf. Iago hath direction what to do:

But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye
Will I look.to t.

Oth. lago is most honest:
[lieft,
Michael, good-night. To-morrow, with your ear.
Let me have speech with you. Come, my dear love,
The purchase made, the fruits are to enfue;
That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you.
Good-night.

[Exeunt Othello and Deídemona.

Enter AGO.

Caf. Welcome, Iago; we muft to the Watch. Iago. Not this hour, Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten o' th'clock. Our General caft us thus early for the love of his Desdemona: whom let us not therefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night with her : and fhe is fport for Jove.

Caf. She's a most exquifite lady.

Iago. And I'll warrant her, full of game.

Caf. Indeed, he's a most fresh and delicate crea

ture.

Iago. What an eye fhe has! methinks it founds a parley to provocation.

Caf. An inviting eye; and yet, methinks, right modeft.

Iago. And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to.love?

Caf. She is indeed, perfection.

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