Montano
I am for it, lieutenant; and I’ll do you justice.
Iago
O sweet England!
King Stephen was a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence all too dear,
With that he call’d the tailor lown.
He was a wight of high renown,
And thou art but of low degree:
’Tis pride that pulls the country down;
Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
Some wine, ho!
Cassio
Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other.
Iago
Will you hear’t again?
Cassio
No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that does those things. Well, God’s above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
Iago
It’s true, good lieutenant.
Cassio
For mine own part—no offence to the general, nor any man of quality—I hope to be saved.
Iago
And so do I too, lieutenant.