 (Iago and Cassio remain.)
Jago.
What, are you wounded, Lieutenant?
Cassio.
So that all the surgeons in the world can’t help me.
Jago.
Heaven forbid!
Cassio. O good name! Good name! I have lost my good name; I have lost my immortal part; what remains to me is a mere animal. My good name, Iago, my good name!—
Jago. As truly as I am a man of integrity, I thought you had received some deep wound in your body; that would mean more than a good name—that chimera that is so often won without merit and lost without fault. You have lost nothing except insofar as you imagine you have lost something. Well, man—one can find ways to win the general back. You are only verbally dismissed, a punishment that contains more politics than ill will; just as if one were to beat an innocent dog to frighten an arrogant lion. Give him kind words, and he is yours again.
Cassio. I would rather ask for my own reprobation than betray such an honest general with such a bad, so drunken, so careless officer. Drunk? And chatter like a parrot? And pick fights? Boast? Curse? And talk nonsense with your own shadow? O you unruly spirit of wine, if you have no name by which you may be known, then let yourself be called the devil.
Jago. Who was the man you were pursuing with your sword? What had he done to you?
Cassio.
I don’t know.
Jago.
Is it possible?
Cassio. I remember a confused jumble of things, but nothing clearly: a business, but not why. Oh, that a man should admit an enemy to his mouth, so that he could steal his reason! That we are capable of transforming ourselves into beasts with sheer joy, pleasure, jest, and revelry!
Jago. Well, be content, you are quite well again. How did you recover so quickly?
Cassio. The devil of drunkenness has given place to the devil of anger; one imperfection shows me another—oh, how heartily I despise myself!
Iago. Come, you are too strict a moralist. Considering the time, the place, and the present circumstances of this country, I myself would heartily wish it hadn’t happened; but since it is as it is, resign yourselves to it and think how you will make amends.
Cassio. Suppose I go and ask him for my place again, he’ll tell me I’m a drunkard—If I had as many mouths as the Hydra, such an answer would shut them all. To be a sane man now, then a fool, and then suddenly a beast—every glass one drinks too much of is accursed, and its ingredient is a devil.
Jago. Come, come, good wine is good (spiritus familiaris) if one knows how to handle it: no more declamations against it!—My dear Lieutenant, I hope you believe that I am your friend.
Cassio.
You gave me samples of it, sir—I, drunk!—
Iago. This is something that can happen to you and every other honest man in the world once in a while—I will tell you what you should do. Our general’s wife is now the general. I can use this expression because he seems to have devoted himself entirely to the contemplation, reflection, and appreciation of her perfections and beauties. Make her a frank confession of your fault, and do not desist until she promises to help you regain your place. She is of such a generous, kind, and philanthropic disposition that she would consider it a lack of kindness not to do more than is asked of her. Beg her to mend this broken bond between you and her husband—and I will stake everything I have against a pin; your friendship will be stronger than it has ever been.
Cassio.
Your advice is good.
Jago. At least he’s well-intentioned and comes from a sincere and friendly heart.
Cassio. I am convinced of it; I will not delay asking the virtuous Desdemona for her preface until tomorrow morning; I shall be utterly lost if I am driven from this place in such a disgraceful manner.
Jago.
You’re right; good night, Lieutenant; I have to go and see the watch.
Cassio.
Good night, honest Iago—
(He leaves.)
