Iago. Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be instructed. Marke me with what violence she first lou'd the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite. Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners, and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus'd, begin to heaue the, gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice. Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vnforc'd position) who stands so eminent in the degree of this Fortune, as Cassio do's: a knaue very voluble: no further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none, why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occasion: that he's an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Aduantages, though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe. A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young: and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the woman hath found him already
Rodo. I cannot beleeue that in her, she's full of most bless'd condition
Iago. Bless'd figges-end. The Wine she drinkes is made of grapes. If shee had beene bless'd, shee would neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bless'd pudding. Didst thou not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not marke that? Rod. Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie
Iago . Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts. They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand comes the Master, and maine exercise, th' incorporate conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for the Command, Ile lay't vpon you. Cassio knowes you not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, which the time shall more fauorably minister
Iago. Sir, he's rash, and very sodaine in Choller: and happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for euen out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to Mutiny. Whose qualification shall come into no true taste againe, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment most profitably remoued, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperitie
Rodo. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity
Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Farewell
Rodo. Adieu. Enter.
Iago. That Cassio loues her, I do well beleeu't: That she loues him, 'tis apt, and of great Credite. The Moore (howbeit that I endure him not) Is of a constant, louing, Noble Nature, And I dare thinke, he'le proue to Desdemona A most deere husband. Now I do loue her too, Not out of absolute Lust, (though peraduenture I stand accomptant for as great a sin) But partely led to dyet my Reuenge, For that I do suspect the lustie Moore Hath leap'd into my Seate. The thought whereof, Doth (like a poysonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes: And nothing can, or shall content my Soule Till I am eeuen'd with him, wife, for wife. Or fayling so, yet that I put the Moore, At least into a Ielouzie so strong That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poore Trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on, Ile haue our Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moore, in the right garbe (For I feare Cassio with my Night-Cape too) Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me, For making him egregiously an Asse, And practising vpon his peace, and quiet, Euen to madnesse. 'Tis heere: but yet confus'd, Knaueries plaine face, is neuer seene, till vs'd. Enter.