IAGO.
What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants desire it.
CASSIO.
Where are they?
IAGO.
Here at the door; I pray you, call them in.
CASSIO.
I'll do't; but it dislikes me.
[Exit.]
IAGO.
If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
With that which he hath drunk to-night already,
He'll be as full of quarrel and offense
As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo,
Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath to-night carous'd
Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch:
Three lads of Cyprus, — noble swelling spirits,
That hold their honours in a wary distance,
The very elements of this warlike isle, —
Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups,
And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards,
Am I to put our Cassio in some action
That may offend the isle: — but here they come:
If consequence do but approve my dream,
My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
[Re-enter Cassio; with him Montano and Gentlemen; followed by
Servant with wine.]
CASSIO.
'Fore heaven, they have given me a rouse already.
MONTANO.
Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier.
