Iago.

What, are you hurt, lieutenant?

Cas.

Past all Surgery.

Iago.

Marry, heav'n forbid!

Cas.

Reputation, reputation, reputation! oh I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of my self, and what remains is bestial. My reputation! Iago, my reputation—

Iago.

As I am an honest man, I had thought, you had receiv'd some bodily wound; there is more sense in That than in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man,—there are ways to recover the General again. You are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice; even so as one would beat his offenceless dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again, and he's yours.

Cas.

I will rather sue to be despis'd, than to deceive so good a commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? ^{3 note}


and speak Parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse fustian with one's own shadow? oh thou invincible spirit of wine! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.

Iago.

What was he that you follow'd with your sword? what had he done to you?

Cas.

I know not.

Iago.

Is't possible?

Cas.

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly: a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains! that we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform our selves into beasts.

Iago.

Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recover'd?

Cas.

It has pleas'd the devil, drunkenness, to give place to the devil, wrath; one unperfectness shews me another, to make me frankly despise my self.

Iago.

Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen: but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

Cas.

I will ask him for my Place again; he shall tell me, I am a drunkard!—had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!—Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.

Iago.

Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well us'd: exclaim no more against it. And, good lieutenant, I think, you think, I love you.

Cas.

I have well approv'd it, Sir. I drunk!

Iago.

You, or any man living, may be drunk at some time, man. I tell you what you shall do: our general's wife is now the General. I may say so, in this respect, for that he hath devoted and given up himself to the contemplation, mark and (a) ^note denotement of her parts and graces. Confess your self freely to her: importune her help, to put you in your Place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint, between you and her husband, intreat her to splinter. And, my fortunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.

Cas.

You advise me well.

Iago.

I protest, in the sincerity of love, and honest kindness.

Cas.

I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: I am desperate of my fortunes, if they check me here.

Iago.

You are in the right: good night, lieutenant, I must to the Watch.

Cas.

Good night, honest Iago.