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    Act III. Scene I

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    Chapter 7
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    SCENE I. Before the castle.

    Enter CASSIO and some Musicians
    Masters, play here; I will content your pains;
    Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.'


    Enter Clown

    Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples,
    that they speak i' the nose thus?

    First Musician
    How, sir, how!

    Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments?

    First Musician
    Ay, marry, are they, sir.

    O, thereby hangs a tail.

    First Musician
    Whereby hangs a tale, sir?

    Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know.
    But, masters, here's money for you: and the general
    so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's
    sake, to make no more noise with it.

    First Musician
    Well, sir, we will not.

    If you have any music that may not be heard, to't
    again: but, as they say to hear music the general
    does not greatly care.

    First Musician
    We have none such, sir.

    Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away:
    go; vanish into air; away!

    Exeunt Musicians

    Dost thou hear, my honest friend?

    No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you.

    Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece
    of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends
    the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's
    one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech:
    wilt thou do this?

    She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I
    shall seem to notify unto her.

    Do, good my friend.

    Exit Clown

    Enter IAGO

    In happy time, Iago.

    You have not been a-bed, then?

    Why, no; the day had broke
    Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago,
    To send in to your wife: my suit to her
    Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona
    Procure me some access.

    I'll send her to you presently;
    And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor
    Out of the way, that your converse and business
    May be more free.

    I humbly thank you for't.

    Exit IAGO

    I never knew
    A Florentine more kind and honest.

    Enter EMILIA

    Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry
    For your displeasure; but all will sure be well.
    The general and his wife are talking of it;
    And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies,
    That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus,
    And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom
    He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you
    And needs no other suitor but his likings
    To take the safest occasion by the front
    To bring you in again.

    Yet, I beseech you,
    If you think fit, or that it may be done,
    Give me advantage of some brief discourse
    With Desdemona alone.

    Pray you, come in;
    I will bestow you where you shall have time
    To speak your bosom freely.

    I am much bound to you.

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