LITMIR.BIZ

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        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

      above.

        IAGO. Farewell, for I must leave you.

          It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place,

          To be produced- 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.

      Exeunt.

      SCENE II. Another street

      Enter

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