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 him: make after him, poison his delight,
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 spied in populous cities.

Rod. What ho! Brabantio! signior Brabantio, ho!
Iago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! thieves!
thieves! thieves!

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?

4 In compliment extern,] In that which I do only for an outward show of civility.

What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,] Full fortune is, a complete piece of good fortune. To owe is to possess.

Iago. Are
Bra.
Why? wherefore ask
Iago. "Zounds, sir, you are robb'd;

your doors lock'd?

put on your gown;

you this? for shame,

your

Your heart is burst, you have lost half
Even 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.

soul;

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 madness,
Being full of supper, and distempering draughts,"
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come

To start my quiet.

Rod. Sir, sir, sir, sir,

Bra.

My spirit, and my place, have in them power

But thou must needs be sure,

Patience, good sir.

To make this bitter to thee.

Rod.

Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is

7

distempering draughts,] To be distempered with liquor,

was, in Shakspeare's age, the phrase for intoxication.

this is Venice;

My house is not a grange.] That is, you are in a populous city, not in a lone house, where a robbery might easily be committed." Grange is strictly and properly the farm of a monastery,

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.

1

Bra. What profane wretch art thou?

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.

Iago.

You are-a senator.

Bra. This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Ro

derigo.

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

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'the night,2
Transported-with no worse nor better guard,
But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier,
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,-

where the religious reposited their corn. Grangia, Lat. from Granum. But in Lincolnshire, and in other northern counties, they call every lone house, or farm which stands solitary, a grange.

9 your nephews neigh to you:] Nephew, in this instance, has the power of the Latin word nepos, and signifies a grandson, or any lineal descendant, however remote.

1

gennets for germans.] A jennet is a Spanish horse. "At this odd-even and dull watch o'the night,] By this singular expression," this odd-even of the night," our poet appears to have meant, that it was just approaching to, or just past, that it was doubtful whether at that moment it stood at the point of midnight, or at some other less equal division of the twenty-fourhours; which a few minutes either before or after midnight would be.

If this be known to you, and your allowance,3 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 thus 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,

5

Of here and every where: Straight satisfy yourself: If she be in her chamber, or your house,

Let loose on me the justice of the state

For thus deluding you.

Bra.
Give me a taper;-call up all my people:-
This accident is not unlike my dream,

Strike on the tinder, ho!

Belief of it oppresses me already

Light, I say! light!

[Exit, from above.
Iago.
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 may 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 which regard,
Though I do hate him as I do hell pains,
Yet, for necessity of present life,

3 and your allowance,] i. e. done with your approbation. That, from the sense of all civility,] That is, in opposition to, or departing from, the sense of all civility.

5 In an extravagant-] For wandering.

6

7

some check,] Some rebuke.

cast him;] That is, dismiss him; reject him.

I must show out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That

find him,

you

shall surely

[Exit.

Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd 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; And what's to come of my despised time,3 Is nought but bitterness.-Now, Roderigo, Where didst thou see her?-O, unhappy girl!With the Moor, say'st thou?-Who would be a father?

How didst thou know 'twas she?-O, thou deceiv'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!—O treason
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.-O, that you had had

her!

Some one way, some another.-Do you

you know Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

And what's to come of my despised time,] Despised time, is time of no value.