OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE. ACT I. SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter RODERIGO and IAGO. Roderigo. TUSH, never tell me, I take it much unkindly, this. Iago. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me :If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. Rod. Thou told'st me, thou didst hold him in thy hate. Iag. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Evades them, with a bombast circumstance, My mediators; for, certes 3, says he, Forsooth, a great arithmetician, . More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick," Wherein the toged consuls can propose 6 As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice, Is all his soldiership. But, he, sir, had the election: And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof, By debitor and creditor, this counter-caster ; 7 And I, (God bless the mark!) his Moorship's an cient. Rod. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. Iago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curse of service; 2 Circumlocution. $ Certainly. 4 For wife some read life, supposing it to allude to the denunciation in the Gospel, woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you. 5 Theory. 6 Rulers of the state. ↑ It was anciently the practice to reckon up sums with counters. Preferment goes by letter, and affection, Not by the old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, Whether I in any just term am affin'd To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then. I follow him to serve my turn upon him: Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, 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 when my outward action doth demonstrate 8 Related. 9 Outward show of civility. But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe, 1 If he can carry't thus ! Iago. Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, 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 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 ? Iago. Are your doors lock'd? Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this? Iago. 'Zounds, sir, you are robb'd; for shame, put on your gown; 1 Own, possess. Your heart is burst 2, you have lost half your soul; Bra. What, have you lost your wits? Rod. Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not 1; What are you? The worse welcome: Rod. My name is — Roderigo. Bra. 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 3 draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start my quiet. Rod. Sir, sir, sir, sir, Bra. 3 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 Venice; My house is not a grange.1 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 3 Intoxicating. 2 i. e. Is broken. + A lone farm house. |