Mon.
What from the cape can you discern at sea?

First Gent.
Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought ^note flood;
I cannot, 'twixt the heaven ^note and the main,
Descry a sail.

Mon.
Methinks the wind hath spoke ^note aloud at land ^note;
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements:
If it hath ^note ruffian'd so upon the sea,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, ^note
Can hold the mortise ^note? What shall we hear of this? ^note

Sec. Gent. ^note
A segregation of the Turkish fleet:

For do but stand upon the foaming ^note shore,
The chidden ^note billow ^note seems ^note to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane ^note,
Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed ^note pole:
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed ^note flood.

Mon.
If that the ^note Turkish fleet
Be not enshelter'd and embay'd ^note, they are ^note drown'd;
It is impossible to ^note bear it out. Enter a third Gentleman. ^{note note}

Third Gent. ^note
News, lads ^note! our ^{note note} wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks ^note,
That their designment halts: a noble ^note ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck ^note and sufferance ^note
On most part of their ^note fleet.

Mon.
How! is this true?

Third Gent.
The ship is here ^note put in,

A Veronesa; ^note Michael Cassio, ^note
Lieutenant to ^note the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on shore ^note: the Moor himself ^note at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

Mon.
I am ^note glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. ^note

Third Gent.
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly
And prays ^note the Moor be safe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.

Mon.
Pray heavens ^note he be;
For I have served him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! ^{note note}
As well to see the vessel that's come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make the main and the aerial blue ^{note note}
An ^note indistinct regard. ^{note note}

Third Gent.
Come, let's do so;
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance ^note. Enter Cassio. ^{note note}

Cas.
Thanks, you the ^note valiant of this ^note warlike ^note isle,
That so approve the Moor! O, let ^note the heavens

Give him defence against ^note the ^note elements,
For I have lost him on a ^note dangerous sea.

Mon.
Is he well shipp'd?

Cas.
His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot ^note
Of very expert and ^note approved allowance;
Therefore my hopes ^note, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure ^note. [A cry within: ^note ‘A sail, a sail, a sail!’ Enter a fourth Gentleman. ^note

Cas.
What noise ^note?

Fourth Gent. ^note
The town is empty; on ^note the brow o' the sea
Stand ^note ranks of people, and they cry ‘A sail!’

Cas.
My hopes do shape him for the governor ^note. [Guns heard. ^note

Sec. Gent. ^note
They do discharge their ^note shot of courtesy:
Our friends ^note at least.

Cas.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.

Sec. Gent.
I shall. [Exit.

Mon.
But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?

Cas.
Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid

That paragons description and wild fame;
One that excels the quirks of ^note blazoning pens,
And in the essential ^note vesture of creation
Does tire the ingener. ^{note note} Re-enter ^note second Gentleman.
How ^note now! who has put in?

Sec. Gent. ^note
'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.

Cas. ^note
He has ^note had most favourable and happy speed:
Tempests themselves, high seas ^note, and howling winds,
The gutter'd ^note rocks, and congregated sands,
Traitors ensteep'd ^note to clog ^note the guiltless keel,
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal ^note natures, letting go safely ^note by
The divine Desdemona.

Mon.
What is she?

Cas.
She that I spake ^note of, our great ^note captain's captain, ^note
Left in the conduct of the bold Iago;
Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts

A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove ^note, Othello guard,
And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,
That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,
Make love's quick pants in ^note Desdemona's arms,
Give renew'd fire to our extincted ^note spirits, ^note
And bring ^note all Cyprus comfort. ^{note note} Enter Desdemona, Emilia, Iago, Roderigo, and Attendants. ^note
O, behold,
The riches of the ship is come on shore ^note!
Ye ^note men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.
Hail to thee, lady ^note! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round!

Des.
I thank you, valiant Cassio.
What tidings can you tell me ^note of my lord?

Cas.
He is not yet ^note arrived: nor know I aught
But that he's well and will be shortly here.

Des.
O, but I fear— ^noteHow lost you company? ^note

Cas.
The great contention of the sea ^note and skies
Parted our fellowship—But ^note, hark! a sail. [A cry within: ‘A sail, a sail!’ ^note Guns heard. ^note

Sec. Gent.
They give their ^note greeting to the ^note citadel:

This likewise is a friend.

Cas.
See for the news. ^note [Exit ^note Gentleman.
Good ancient, you are welcome. [To Emilia ^note] Welcome, mistress:
Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,
That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding
That gives me this bold show of courtesy. [Kissing her. ^note

Iago.
Sir, ^note would she give you so much of her lips
As of her tongue she oft bestows ^note on ^note me,
You'ld ^note have enough.

Des.
Alas, she has no speech.

Iago.
In faith, ^note too much;
I find it still when ^note I have ^note list ^note to sleep:
Marry, before your ladyship, I grant,
She puts her tongue a little in her heart ^note
And chides with thinking.

Emil.
You have ^note little cause to say so.

Iago.
Come on, come on; you are ^note pictures out of doors ^note,
Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens,
Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,
Players in your housewifery ^note, and ^note housewives ^note in your beds. ^{note note}

Des. ^note
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.

Iago.
No, let me not.

Des.
What wouldst thou ^note write of me, if thou shouldst praise me? ^{note note}

Iago.
O gentle lady, do not put me to't;
For I am nothing if not critical.

Des.
Come on, assay— ^{note note}There's one gone to the harbour? ^note

Iago.
Ay, madam.

Des.
I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am by seeming otherwise.
Come, how wouldst thou praise me?

Iago.
I am about it; but indeed ^note my ^note invention
Comes from my pate as birdline does from frize ^note;
It plucks out brains ^note and all: but my Muse labours,
And thus she is deliver'd ^note. ^{note note}
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit,
The one's for use, the other useth ^note it.

Des.
Well praised! How if she be black and witty? ^note

Iago.
If she be black, and thereto have a wit,
She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit ^note.

Des.
Worse and worse.

Emil.
How if fair and foolish? ^note

Iago.
She never yet was foolish that was fair;
For ^note even her folly help'd her to an heir. ^note

Des.

These are old fond ^note paradoxes to make fools laugh i' the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's foul and foolish? ^note

Iago.
There's none so foul, and foolish thereunto,
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones ^note do.

Des.

O heavy ignorance! thou praisest ^note the worst best. But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving woman indeed, one that in the authority of her merit ^note did justly put on ^note the vouch of very malice itself? ^note

Iago.
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 I may;’
She that, being anger'd ^note, 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;
She that could think and ne'er ^note disclose her mind,
See suitors following and not ^note look behind; ^note
She was a wight, if ever such wight ^note were,— ^note

Des.

To ^note do what?

Iago.
To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.

Des.

O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal ^note counsellor ^note? ^note

Cas.

He speaks home, madam: you may relish him ^notemore in the soldier than in the scholar ^note. ^note

Iago. [Aside ^note]

He takes her by the palm: ay, well ^note said ^note, whisper: with as little a web as this will I ^note ensnare as great a fly ^note as Cassio. Ay, smile ^note upon her, do; I will gyve thee ^note in thine ^note own courtship ^note. You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as these strip you out of your lieutenantry ^note, it had been better you had not kissed ^note your three fingers so oft, which now again ^note you are most apt to play the sir in. Very ^note good; well kissed! an ^note excellent courtesy ^note! 'tis so ^note, indeed. Yet again ^note your fingers to ^note your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! [Trumpet within. ^note] The Moor! I know his trumpet.

Cas.

'Tis truly so.

Des.

Let's meet him and receive him.

Cas.

Lo, where he comes ^note!