Act 2 - Scene 1
A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen
What from the cape can you discern at sea?
Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood;
I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,
Descry a sail.
Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements:
If it hath ruffian'd
so upon the sea,
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,
Can hold the mortise? What shall we
hear of this?
A segregation of the Turkish fleet:
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,
The chidden billow seems
to pelt the clouds;
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,
seems to cast water on the
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed
If that the Turkish fleet
Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd:
It is impossible they bear it out.
Enter a third Gentleman
News, lads! our wars are done.
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,
That their designment
halts: a noble ship of Venice
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance
On most part of their fleet.
How! is this true?
The ship is here put in,
A Veronesa; Michael Cassio,
Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello,
Is come on
shore: the Moor himself at sea,
And is in full commission here for Cyprus.
I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.
But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort
Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly,
prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted
With foul and violent tempest.
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