Pray heavens he be;
For I have served him, and the man commands
Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside,
As well to see the vessel that's come in
As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,
Even till we make
the main and the aerial blue
An indistinct regard.
Come, let's do so:
For every minute is expectancy
Of more arrivance.
Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,
That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens
Give him defence
against the elements,
For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea.
Is he well shipp'd?
His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot
Of very expert and approved allowance;
Therefore my hopes, not
surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.
A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!'
Enter a fourth Gentleman
The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!'
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
They do discharge their shot of courtesy:
Our friends at least.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.
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