Awake the fnorting Citizens with the Bell,
Or else the Devil will make a Grandfire of you.
Arife I fay.

know my

Bra. What, have you loft your Wits?
Rod. Moft Reverend Signior, do you
Bra. Not I; what are you?

Rod. My Name is Rodorigo.

Bra. The worfer welcome;

I have charg'd thee not to haunt about my Doors :
In honeft plainnefs thou haft heard me fay,

My Daughter is not for thee. And now in Madness,
Being full of Supper, and diftempering draughts,
Upon malicious Knavery, doft thou come
To ftart my quiet.

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir

Bra. But thou must needs be fure,

My Spirits and my Place have in their Power

To make this bitter to thee.

Rod. Patience, good Sir.

Voice?

Bra. What tell'ft thou me of Robbing? This is Venice: My Houfe is not a Grange.

Rod. Moft grave Brabantio,

In fimple and pure Soul, I come to you.

Jago. Sir, you are one of thofe that will not ferve God, if the Devil bid you. Becaufe we come to do you Service, and you think we are Ruffians, you'll have your Daugh ter cover'd with a Barbary Horfe, you'll have your Ne phews neigh to you, you'll have Courfers for Coufins, and Gennets for Germans.

Bra. What profane Wretch art thou?

Jago. I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter and the Moor are making the Beast with two Backs. Bra. Thou art a Villain.

Fago. You are a Senator.

Bra. This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Rodorigo. Rod. Sir, I willanfwer any thing. But I befeech you, If'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'th' Night, Tranfported with no worse or better guard, But with a Knave of common hire, a Gundalier,

Το

To the grofs clafps of a lafcivious Moor:
If this be known to you, and
your Allowance,
We then have done you bold and fawcy Wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong Rebuke. Do not believe
That from the fenfe of all Civility,

I thus would play and trifle with your Reverence:
Your Daughter, if you have not given her leave,
I fay again, hath made a grofs Revolt,

Tying her Duty, Beauty, Wit, and Fortunes
In an extravagant, and wheeling Stranger,

Of here and every where; ftraight fatisfie your felf.
If the be in your Chamber, or your House,
Let loose on me the Juftice 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 oppreffes me already.

Light, I fay, light!

Jago. Farewel; for I must leave you.
It feems not meet, nor wholfome to my place
To be produc'd, as if I ftay, I fhall,
Against the Moor. For I do know the State,
However this may gall him with fome check,
Cannot with fafety caft him. For he's embark'd
With fuch loud reafon to the Cyprus Wars,
Which even now ftands in A&, that for their Souls,
Another of his fadom, they have none,

To lead their Bufinefs. In which regard,
Tho' I do hate him as I do Hell's Pains,
Yet, for neceffity of prefent Life,

I muft fhew out a Flag, and fign of Love,

Which is indeed but fign: that you fhall furely find him,

Lead to the Sagittary the raised Search;

And there will I be with him. So farewel.

[Exit.

Enter Brabantio in his Night-gown, with Servants and Torebes. Bra. It is too true an Evil. Gone fhe is, And what's to come of my despised time, Is naught but bitternefs. Now, Rodorigo, Where didft thou fee her? Oh unhappy Girl!Ii 4

With

With the Moor faift thou? Who would be a Father?
How didst thou know 'twas fhe? Oh fhe deceives me
Paft thought--what faid the to you? Get more Tapers----
Raife all my Kindred-Are they Married, think you?
Rod. Truly I think they are.

Bra. Oh Heav'n! how got the out?
Oh Treafon of my Blood!

Fathers, from hence truft not your Daughters Minds
By what you see them A&t. Are there not Charms,
By which the property of Youth and Maidhood
May be abus'd? Have you not read, Rodorigo,
Of fome fuch thing?

Rod. Yes, Sir, I have indeed.

Bra. Call up my Brothers; oh would you had had her! Some one way, fome another----Do you know Where we may apprehend her, and the Moor? Rod. I think I can difcover 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 moft, get Weapons, hoa! And raise fome fpecial Officers of might : On, good Rodorigo, I will deferve your Pains.

SCENE II. The Street.

[Exeunt.

Enter Othello, Jago, and Attendants, with Torches.
Jago. Tho' in the Trade of War I have flain Men,
Yet do I hold it very ftuff o'th' Confcience
To do no contriv'd Murder: I take iniquity
Sometime to do me Service. Nine or ten times
I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the Rib,
Oth. Tis better as it is.

Jago. Nay, but he prated,

And spoke such scurvy and provoking Terms

Against your Honour, that with the little Godliness I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray you, Sir,
Are you faft Married? Be affur'd of this,

That the Magnifico is much belov'd,
And hath in his effect a Voice potential
As double as the Duke's: He will divorce you.
Or put upon you, what Reftraint or Grievance,

The

The Law, with all his might to enforce it on,
Will give him Cable.

Oth. Let him do his fpight:

My Services, which I have done the Signory,'
Shall out-tongue his Complaints. 'Tis yet to know,
Which, when I know that boafting is an Honour,
I shall promulgate. I fetch my Life and Being,
From Men of Royal Siege; and my Demerits
May speak, unbonnetted, to as proud a Fortune
As this that I have reach'd. For know, Jago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,

I would not my unhoufed free Condition
Put into Circumfcription and Confine,

For the Seas worth. But look! what Lights come yond? Enter Caffio with Torches.

Jago. Thofe are the raised Father, and his Friends: You were beft go

in.

Oth. Not I; I muft be found.

My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soul

Shall manifeft me rightly, Is it they?
Fago. By Janus, I think no.

Lieutenant :

Oth. The Servants of the Duke, and my
The Goodness of the Night upon you, Friends,
What is the News ?

Caf. The Duke does greet you, General,

And he requires your hafte, Post-hafte appearance,
Even on the inftant.

Oth. What is the matter, think you?

Caf. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine: It is a Bufinefs of fome heat. The Gallies

Have fent a dozen fequent Meffengers

This very Night, at one anothers Heels :

And many of the Confuls, rais'd and met,

Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly call'd for,

When being not at your Lodging to be found,

The Senate hath fent about three feveral Quefts,

To fearch you out.

Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you:

I will but spend a word here in the House,
And go with you.

[Exit Othello.

Caf.

Caf. Ancient, what makes he here?

Fago. Faith, he to Night hath boorded a Land Carrac, If it prove lawful Prize, he's made for ever.

Caf. I do not understand.

Fago. He's married.

Caf. To whom?

Fago. Marry to-Come, Captain, will you go

Oth. Have with

Enter Othello.

you.

Caf. Here comes another Troop to feek for you.
Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers and Torches.
Jago. It is Brabantio; General be advis'd,

He comes to bad intent.

Oth. Holla! ftand there.

Rod. Signior, it is the Moor.

Bra. Down with him, Thief. [They draw on both fides. Jago. You Rodorigo! Come, Sir, I am for you

Oth. Keep up your bright Swords, for the Dew will ruft 'em. Good Signior, you fhall more command with Years, Than with your Weapons.

Bra. Oh thou foul Thief! Where haft thou ftow'd my
Daughter?

Damn'd as thou art, thou haft enchanted her,
For I'll refer me to all things of Sense,
If the in Chains of Magick were not bound,
Whether a Maid, fo tender, fair, and happy,
So oppofite to Marriage, that she shunn'd
The wealthy curled Darlings of our Nation,
Would ever have, t'incur a general mock,
Run from her Guardage to the footy Bofom,
Of fuch a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight?
Judge me the World, if 'tis not grofs in Senfe,
That thou haft practis'd on her with foul Charms,
Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals,
That weaken Motion: I'll have't difputed on,
Tis probable, and palpable to thinking;
I therefore apprehend and do attach thee,
For an abufer of the World, a practicer
Of Arts inhibited, and out of Warrant ;
Lay hold upon him, if he do refift
Subdue him at his peril.

Othe