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.

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 chances of vexation on’t

As it may lose some colour.

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 (calling)

What ho, Brabanzio, Signor Brabanzio, ho!

IAGO (calling)

Awake, what ho, Brabanzio, thieves, thieves, thieves!

Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags.

Thieves, thieves!

Enter Brabanzio in his nightgown at a window above

BRABANZIO

What is the reason of this terrible summons?

What is the matter there?

RODERIGO

Signor, is all your family within?

IAGO

Are your doors locked?

BRABANZIO

Why, wherefore ask you this?

IAGO

’Swounds, sir, you’re robbed. 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.

BRABANZIO What, have you lost your wits?

RODERIGO

Most reverend signor, do you know my voice?

BRABANZIO Not I. What are you?

RODERIGO My name is Roderigo.

BRABANZIO 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.

BRABANZIO But thou must needs be sure

My spirits and my place have in their power

To make this bitter to thee.

RODERIGO

Patience, good sir.

BRABANZIO

What tell’st thou me of robbing? This is Venice.

My house is not a grange.

RODERIGO Most grave Brabanzio,

In simple and pure soul I come to you.

IAGO (to Brabanzio) ’Swounds, 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 jennets for germans.

BRABANZIO 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.

BRABANZIO

Thou art a villain.

IAGO

You are a senator.

BRABANZIO

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’th’ 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.

BRABANZIO (calling)

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

IAGO Farewell,

for I must leave you.

It seems not meet nor wholesome to my place

To be producted—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 embarked

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 Brabanzio in his nightgown, and

servants with torches

BRABANZIO

It is too true an evil. Gone she is,

And what’s to come of my despised time

Is naught but bitterness. Now, Roderigo,