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Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obfequious bondage,
Wears out his time, much like his mafter's afs,
For nought but provender; and when he's old, cafheir'd;
Whip me fuch honeft knaves- -Others there are,
Who, trimm'd in forms and vifages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themfelves;
And, throwing but fhows of fervice on their lords,
Well thrive by them; and when they've lin❜d their
Do themselves homage. Thefe folks have fome foul, And fuch a one do I profess my felf.
It is as fure as you are Rodrigo,
Were I the Moor, I would not be lago:
In following him, I follow but my felf,
Heav'n is my judge, not I, for love and duty :
But, feeming fo, for my peculiar end :
For when my outward action doth demonftrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my fleeve,
For daws to peck at; I'm not what I feem.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,
If he can carry her thus?
Iago. Call up her father,
Roufe him, make after him, poifon his delight;
Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kinsmen ;
And tho' he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies; tho' that his joy be joy,
Yet throw fuch changes of vexation on't,
As it may lose fome colour.
Rod. Here is her father's houfe, I'll call aloud.
Jago. Do, with like timorous accent, and dire yell,
As when, by night and negligence, the fire
Is fpied in populous cities.
Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! Signior Brabantio! ho.
Lago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! ho! thieves!
Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags:
Thieves! thieves !
Brabantio appears above, at a window.
Bra. What is the reason of this terrible fummons ? What is the matter there?
Rod. Signior, is all your family within?
Iago. Are all doors lock'd?
Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this?
Iago. Zounds! Sir, you're robb'd: for fhame, put on your Gown ;
Your heart is burst, you have loft half your
Ev'n now, ev'n very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arife, arise,
Awake the fnorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the Devil will make a grandfire of you.
Arife, I fay.
Bra. What, have you loft your wits?
Rod. Moft reverend fignior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I; what are you?
Rod. My name is Rodorigo.
Bra. The worse welcome;
I've charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honeft plainnefs thou hast heard me fay,
My daughter's not for thee. And now in madness,
Being full of fupper and diftemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious bravery dost thou come
Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir
Bra. But thou muft needs be fure,
My fpirit and my place have in their power
To make this bitter to thee.
Rod Patience, good Sir.
Bra. What tell'it thou me of robbing? this is Venice: My house is not a grange.
Rod. Moft grave Brabantio,
In fimple and pure foul, I come to you.
lago. Zounds! Sir, you are one of those that will not ferve God, if the Devil bid you. to do you fervice, you think we are ruffians; you'll
Because we come
have your daughter cover'd with a Barbary horfe, you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have courfers for coufins, and gennets for germanes.
Bra. What prophane 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 fenator.
Bra. This thou fhalt answer. I know thee, Rodorigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I befeech you,
If't be your pleasure and moft wife confent,
(As partly, I find, it is,) that your fair daughter,
At this odd even and dull watch o'th' night,
Transported with no worse nor better guard,
But with a knave of hire, a Gundalier,
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
To an extravagant and wheeling ftranger,
Of here and every where; ftraight fatis fie your felf.
If she be in her chamber, or your house,
Let loofe on me the juftice of the State
For thus deluding you.
Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper;
all my people;
This accident is not unlike my Dream,
Belief of it oppreffes me already.
Light, I fay, light!
Tago. Farewel; for I muft leave you.
It seems 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 ev'n now ftand in act, that, for their fouls,
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 may furely
Lead to the Sagittary the raised fearch;
And there will I be with him. So, farewel.
Enter Brabantio, and fervants with torches.
Bra. It is too true an evil Gone fhe is;
And what's to come of my defpised time,
Is nought but bitternefs. Now, Rodorigo,
Where didft thou fee her? oh unhappy girl!
With the Moor, faidit thou? who would be a father?
How didft thou know 'twas the? oh, the deceives me
What faid the to you? get more
Raife all my kindred-are they married, think you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are.
Bra. Oh heaven! how gat fhe out? Oh treafon of my blood!
Fathers, from hence truft not your daughters' minds
By what you fee them act. 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 brother: oh, 'would you had had
Some one way, fome 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
I command at moft; get weapons, hoa!
And raise fome fpecial officers of might:
On, good Redorigo, I'll deferve your pains.
SCENE changes to another STREET, before the Sagittary.
Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants with Torches.
HO' in the trade of war I have flain men› Yet do I hold it very ftuff o'th' confcience To do no contriv'd murther: I lack iniquity Sometimes to do me fervice.Nine or ten times I thought to've jerk'd him here under the ribs. Oth. It's better as it is."
Jago. Nay, but he prated,
And spoke fuch scurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour;
That, with the little godliness. I have,
I did full hard forbear him. But I pray, Sir,
Are you faft married? for, be fure 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 restraint or grievance
The law (with all his might t'enforce it on)
Will give him cable.
Oth. Let him do his spight:
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 fhall promulgate) I fetch my Life and Being (3)
-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.] Thus all the Copies read this Paffage. But, to speak unbonnerted, is to speak with the Cap off, which is directly oppofite to the Poet's Meaning. Othello means