he thought it would be an exquisite plot of revenge, and might end in
the death of Cassio or Othello, or both; he cared not.

The arrival of the general and his lady, in Cyprus, meeting with the
news of the dispersion of the enemy's fleet, made a sort of holiday in
the island. Everybody gave themselves up to feasting and making merry.
Wine flowed in abundance, and cups went round to the health of the black
Othello, and his lady the fair Desdemona.

Cassio had the direction of the guard that night, with a charge from
Othello to keep the soldiers from excess in drinking, that no brawl
might arise, to fright the inhabitants, or disgust them with the
new-landed forces. That night Iago began his deep-laid plans of
mischief: under colour of loyalty and love to the general, he enticed
Cassio to make rather too free with the bottle (a great fault in an
officer upon guard). Cassio for a time resisted, but he could not long
hold out against the honest freedom which Iago knew how to put on, but
kept swallowing glass after glass (as Iago still plied him with drink
and encouraging songs), and Cassio's tongue ran over in praise of the
Lady Desdemona, whom he again and again toasted, affirming that she was
a most exquisite lady: until at last the enemy which he put into his
mouth stole away his brains; and upon some provocation given him by a
fellow whom Iago had set on, swords were drawn, and Montano, a worthy
officer, who interfered to appease the dispute, was wounded in the
scuffle. The riot now began to be general, and Iago, who had set on foot
the mischief, was foremost in spreading the alarm, causing the
castle-bell to be rung (as if some dangerous mutiny instead of a slight
drunken quarrel had arisen): the alarm-bell ringing awakened Othello,
who, dressing in a hurry, and coming to the scene of action, questioned
Cassio of the cause. Cassio was now come to himself, the effect of the
wine having a little gone off, but was too much ashamed to reply; and
Iago, pretending a great reluctance to accuse Cassio, but, as it were,
forced into it by Othello, who insisted to know the truth, gave an
account of the whole matter (leaving out his own share in it, which
Cassio was too far gone to remember) in such a manner, as while he
seemed to make Cassio's offence less, did indeed make it appear greater
than it was. The result was, that Othello, who was a strict observer of
discipline, was compelled to take away Cassio's place of lieutenan