Evades them with a bombast circumstance, Non-suits my mediators; for, certes, says he, And what was he? Forsooth, a great arithmetician, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, 20 As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice, 30 And I, sir, (bless the mark!) his Moor-ship's an cient. Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. Lago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of ser vice; 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 Το To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then. lago. O, sir, content you; I follow him to serve my turn upon him: 40 For nought but provender, and, when he's old, ca shier'd; 50 Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are, 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 Iago: Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, 60 For when my outward action doth demonstrate But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For 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 ! lago. Call up her father, Rouse him make after him, poison his delight, 70 : Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, 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. lago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is spy'd in populous cities. Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho! lago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! thieves! thieves! 81 Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves! thieves! BRABANTIO, above, at a Window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible summons ? What is the matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your family within? lago. Are your doors lock'd? Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this? lago. 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 91 Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise! Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: 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, 100 in madness, Being full of supper, and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start my quiet. Rod. Sir, 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. 11@ 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. lago. 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 cover'd 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 thou ? 121 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, Rode rigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you, [If't be your pleasure, and most wise consent Transported-with no worse nor better guard, 130 140 I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes, Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself:] Let |