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Othello by William Shakespeare
page 47 of 156 (30%)
Cas. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore,
and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish
Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of entertainment

Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile
drinke for you

Cassio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that
was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation
it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and
dare not taske my weakenesse with any more

Iago. What man? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gallants
desire it

Cas. Where are they?
Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in

Cas. Ile do't, but it dislikes me.
Enter.

Iago. If I can fasten but one Cup vpon him
With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie,
He'l be as full of Quarrell, and offence
As my yong Mistris dogge.
Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo,
Whom Loue hath turn'd almost the wrong side out,
To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd.
Potations, pottle-deepe; and he's to watch.
Three else of Cyprus, Noble swelling Spirites,
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