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Is all his soldiership. But, he, sir, had the

election : And I,-of whom his eyes bad seen the proof, At Rhodes, at Cyprus; and on other grounds Christian and heathen,-must be be-lee'd and

calm'd By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster; He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, And I (God bless the mark !) bis Moorship's

ancient. Rod. By heaven, I rather would bave been

his bangman, Iago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of

service;
Preferment goes by letter, and affection,
Not by the old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge

yourself,
Whether I in any just term am affin'd
To love the Moor.
Rod.

I would not follow bim then.
Iago. 0, sir, content you ;
I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You sball mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like bis master's ass,
For nought but provender; and, when he's old,

cashier'd; Whip me such bonest knaves: Others there are, Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves ; And, throwing but shows of service on their

lords, Do well thrive by them, and, when they have

lin'd their coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have

some soul; And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor, I would not be lago: In following him, I follow but myself: Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so, for my peculiar end:

For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips

owe,
If he can carry't thus!
Iago.

Call up her father, Rouse bim: make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; inceuse her king

men, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague bim with flies: though that his joy bejoy, Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, As it may lose some colour. Rod. Here is her father's house: I'll call aloud. Iago. Do; with like timorous accent, and

dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spied in populous cities. Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio !

ho! Iago. Awake! what bo! Brabantio! thieves !

thieves! thieves ! Look to your house, your daughter, and your Thieves ! tbieves!

[bags ! BRABANTIO, above, at a Window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible sum

mons?
What is the matter there?

Rod. Signior, is all your family within?
Iago. Are your doors lock'd ?
Bra.

Why? wherefore ask you this? Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are robb’d; for shame,

put on your gown: Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Even now, very now, an old black ram Is tapping your white ewe. A rise, arise ; Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of yon : Arise, I say.

Bra. What, have you lost your wits? Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my

voice?

Bra. Not I; What are you?
Rod. My name is–Roderigo.
Bra.

The worse welcome : I have charg'd thee, not to haunt about my

doors ; In honest plainness thou hast heard me say, My daughter is not for thee; and now, in mad.

ness, Being full of supper, and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start iny quiet. Rod. Sir, sír, sir, sir, Bra.

But thou must needs be sure, My spirit, and my place, have in them power To make this bitter to thee. Rod.

Patience, good sir. Bra. What tell’st thou me of robbing? this is

Venice;
My house is not a grange.
Rod.

Most grave Brabantio, In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are one of those, that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, you think we are ruffians: You'll have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you : you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.

Bra. What profane wretch art thon?

Iago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

Bra. Thou art a villain. lago.

You are a senator. Bra. This thou shalt answer: I know thee,

Roderigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I

beseech you, Il't be your pleasure, and most wise consent, (As partly I find, it is), that your fair daughter, At this odd-even and dull watch o'the night, Transported—with no worse nor better goard, But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,If this be known to you, and your allowance, We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs;

But if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe,
That, from the sense of all civility,
I tbus would play and trifle with your reverence:
Your daughter,—if you have not given her

leave,-
I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes,
In an extravagant and wheeling stranger,
Of here and every where: Straight satisfy your-

self:
If she be in her chamber, or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you.
Bra.

Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper;-call up all my people :-
This accident is not unlike my dream,
Belief of it oppresses me already :-
Light, I say! light!

[Exit, from above. lago. Farewell; for I must leave you : It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, To be produc'd (as, if I stay, I shall), Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state, However this niay gall him with some check Cannot with safety cast him ; for he's embark'd With such loud reason to the Cyprus' wars (Which even now stand in act), that, for their

souls, Another of his fathom they have not, To lead their business: in wbich regard, Though I do hate him as I do hell pains, Yet, for necessity of present life, I must show out a flag and sign of love, Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely

find him, Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd search ; And there will I be with him. So, farewell.

[Exit. Enter below), BRABANTIO, and Servants, with

Torches. Bra. It is too true an evil: gone she is : And what's to come of my despised time, Is nought but bitterness.--Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?—0, unhappy girl !

With the Moor, say'st thou ?-Who would be a

father? How didst thou know 'twas she? O, thoù de

ceiv'st me Past thought !-What said she to you?-Get

more tapers ; Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think

you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are. Bra. O heaven!-How got she out?-0 trea

son of the blood !Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters'

minds, By what you see them act.- Are there not

charms, By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abus'd? Have you not read, Roderigo, of some such thing? Rod.

Yes, sir, I have indeed. Bra. Call up my brother.-0, that you had

had her! Some one way, some another.-Do you know Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

Rod. I think, I can discover him; if you please, To get good guard, and go along with me. Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll

call; I may command at most ;-Get weapons, ho! And raise some special officers of night. On, good Roderigo ;-I'll deserve your pains.

[Ereunt. SCENE II. The same. Another Street.

Enter OTHELLO, lago, and Attendants. Iugo. Though in the trade of war I have slain

men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience, To do no contriy'd murder; I lack iniquity Sometimes, to do me service : Nine or ten times I had bethought to bave yerk'd bim here under

the ribs, Oth. 'Tis better as it is. Iago.

Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms

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