Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election : And I,-bless the mark! his Moor-ship's ancient. ROD. By Heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. IAGO. Why, there's no remedy, 't is the curse of service; Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, To love the Moor. ROD. I would not follow him then. IAGO. O sir, content you; I follow him to serve my turn upon him: For nought but provender; and when he's old, cashier'd; Do well thrive by them, and, when they have lin❜d their coats, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. ROD. What a full fortune does the Thicklips owe, If he can carry 't thus ! Call up her father, IAGO. Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, 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, hoa! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, hoa! IAGO. Awake; what, hoa! Brabantio! thieves! thieves ! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves thieves ! BRABANTIO, above. BRA. What is the reason of this terrible summons ? 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. Sir, you are robb'd; for shame put on your gown; Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Even now, now, very now, an old black ram Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise ; Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you : Arise, I say. BRA. What, have you lost your wits? ROD. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? ROD. My name is Roderigo. The worser welcome : BRA. My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, (Being full of supper and distempering draughts,) Upon malicious knavery, 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 their power 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. Sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service, and 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 thou? IAGO. 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. IAGO. You are a senator. BRA. This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Roderigo. I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: Tying her duty, beauty, wit, and fortunes, In an extravagant and wheeling stranger, Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself: Let loose on me the justice of the state BRA. Light, I say! light! [Exit from above. IAGO. Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state 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 raised search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell. Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches. BRA. It is too true an evil: gone she is ; [Exit. With the Moor, say'st thou ?-Who would be a father?- BRA. O heaven! How got she out?-O treason of the blood! Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds By what you see them act.-Are there not charms ROD. Yes, sir; I have indeed. BRA. Call up my brother.-O, would 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 ; SCENE II.-The same. Another Street. [Exeunt. Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches. Sometime to do me service: Nine or ten times I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. IAGO. 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, And hath, in his effect, a voice potential, Отн. Shall out-tongue his complaints. "T is yet to know, hall promulgate,) I fetch my life and being |