Othello | Page 4

I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to
peck at: I am not what I am.
RODERIGO.
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 color.
RODERIGO.
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.
RODERIGO.
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 appears above at a window.]
BRABANTIO.
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What

is the matter there?
RODERIGO.
Signior, is all your family within?
IAGO.
Are your doors locked?
BRABANTIO.
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO.
Zounds, sir, you're 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.
BRABANTIO.
What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO.
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
BRABANTIO.
Not I; what are you?
RODERIGO.
My name is Roderigo.
BRABANTIO.
The worser welcome:
I have charged 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.
RODERIGO.
Sir, sir, sir,--
BRABANTIO.
But thou must needs be sure
My spirit and my
place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO.
Patience, good sir.
BRABANTIO.
What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
My

house is not a grange.
RODERIGO.
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, 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.
BRABANTIO.
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.
BRABANTIO.
Thou are a villain.
IAGO.
You are--a senator.
BRABANTIO.
This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
RODERIGO.
Sir, I will answer anything. 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,

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

If this be known to you, and your allowance,
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
Of here and everywhere. 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.
BRABANTIO.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper!--Call up
all my people!--
This accident is not unlike my dream:
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 stands in act,--that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom they
have none
To lead their business: in which regard,
Though I do hate
him as I do hell pains,
Yet, for necessity of present life,
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.
[Exit.]
[Enter, below, Brabantio, and Servants with torches.]
BRABANTIO.
It is too true an evil: gone she is;
And what's to
come of my despised time
Is naught 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,
she deceives me
Past thought.--What said she to you?--Get more
tapers;
Raise all my kindred.--Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO.
Truly, I think they are.
BRABANTIO.
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