IAGO.
Some wine, ho!
[Sings.]
"And let me the canakin clink, clink;
And let me the canakin clink.
A soldier's a man;
O, man's life's but a span;
Why then let a soldier drink."
Some wine, boys!
CASSIO.
'Fore God, an excellent song.
IAGO.
I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are most
potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied
Hollander, — Drink, ho! — are nothing to your English.
CASSIO.
Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking?
IAGO.
Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he
sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he gives your Hollander
a vomit ere the next pottle can be filled.
CASSIO.
To the health of our general!
MONTANO.
I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice.
IAGO.
O sweet England!
[Sings.]
"King Stephen was and a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence all too dear,
With that he call'd the tailor lown.
He was a wight of high renown,
And thou art but of low degree:
'Tis pride that pulls the country down;
Then take thine auld cloak about thee."
Some wine, ho!
