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  • Title: Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)
  • Editor: Donald Bailey
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-466-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Donald Bailey
    Peer Reviewed

    Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)

    The Tragedy of Othello

    The profits yet to come twixt me and you,
    Good night. Exit Othello and Desdemona.
    Enter Iago.
    Cas. Welcome Iago, we must to the watch.
    1125Iag. Not this houre Leiutenant, tis not yet ten aclock: our Ge-
    nerall cast vs thus early for the loue of his Desdemena. who let vs
    not therefore blame, hee hath not yet made wanton the night with
    her; and she is sport for Ioue.
    1130Cas. She is a most exquisite Lady.
    Iag. And I'le warrant her full of game.
    Cas. Indeede she is a most fresh and delicate creature.
    Iag. What an eye she has?
    Me thinkes it sounds a parly of prouocation.
    1135Cas. An inuiting eye, and yet me thinkes right moddest.
    Iag. And when she speakes, tis an alarme to loue.
    Cas. It is indeede perfection.
    1140Iag. Well, happinesse to their sheetes ---come Leiutenant, I
    haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a brace of Cypres Gal-
    lants, that would faine haue a measure to the health of the blacke
    Cas. Not to night, good Iago; I haue very poore and vnhappy
    1145braines for drinking: I could well wish courtesie would inuent some
    other custome of entertainement.
    Iag. O they are our friends, ---but one cup: I'le drink for you.
    1150Cas. I ha drunke but one cup to night, and that was craftily qua-
    lified to, and behold what innouation it makes here: I am vnfor-
    tunate in the infirmity, and dare not taske my weakenesse with
    any more.
    Iag. What man, tis a night of Reuells, the Gallants desire it.
    Cas. Where are they?
    Iag. Here at the dore, I pray you call them in.
    Cas. I'le do't, but it dislikes me. Exit.
    Iag. If I can fasten but one cup vpon him,
    1160With that which he hath drunke to night already,
    Hee'll be as full of quarrell and offence,
    As my young mistris dog: ---Now my sicke foole Roderigo,
    Whom loue has turn'd almost the wrong side outward,