you think we are ruffians; you'll 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 germans. 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 beaft with two backs. Bra. Thou art a villain. lago. You are a fenator. Bra. This thou fhalt answer. I know thee, Rodorigo. I thus would play, and trifle with your reverence. Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes Of here and every where; ftraight fatisfie your felf. Let loose on me the juftice of the state Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho! Give me a tapercall up all my people, This accident is not unlike my dream, Belief of it oppreffes me already. Light, I fay, light! [Exit Bra. from above. Iago. Iago. Farewel; for I must leave you. Againft the Moor. For I do know, the ftate, Which ev'n now ftand in act, that for their fouls, To lead their bufinefs. In which regard, I muft fhew out a flag and fign of love, Which is indeed but fign. That you 7 'may find him, Lead to the Sagittary the raised fearch; And there will I be with him. So farewel. SCENE [Exit. III. Enter Brabantio in his night-gown, and Servants with torches. Bra. It is too true an evil. Gone fhe is, With the Moor, faid'ft thou! who would be a father? Bra. Oh heaven! how gat fhe out? Fathers, from hence truft not your daughters minds 7 may furely find Rod. Rod. Yes, Sir, I have indeed. Bra. Call up my brothers; oh would you had had her! 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 houfe I'll call, I may command at moft; get weapons, hoa! And raise fome fpecial officers of might: On, good Rodorigo, I'll deferve your pains. [Exeunt. Another Street before the Sagittary. Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants with torches. Iago. THO' 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. Iago. Nay, but he prated, And spoke fuch fcurvy and provoking terms That with the little godlinefs I have, I did full hard forbear him. But I pray, Sir, As double as the Duke's: he will divorce you, Oth. Let him do his spight: My fervices, which I have done the Signory, Shall Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know, (Which, when I know that boafting is an honour, I fhall promulgate) I fetch life and being From men of royal fiege; and my demerits May speak, 'e'en bonneted, to as proud a fortune I would not my unhoufed free condition Put into circumfcription and confine, For the fea's worth. But look! what lights come yonder? Iago. Those are the raised father, and his friends, You were best go in. Oth. Not 1: I must be found. My part, my title, and my perfect foul Iago. By Janus, I think no. Oth. The fervants of the Duke, and my lieutenant : Caf. The Duke does greet you, General, Oth. What is the matter, think you? Caf. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine: This very night, at one another's heels: And many of the 'counfel, rais'd and met, Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly call'd for, When being not at your lodging to be found, The fenate fent above three feveral quefts, To fearch you out. 8 unbonnetted, or and bonnetted, 1 confuls, cr couns'lers, Oth. parts, Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you: I will but fpend a word here in the house, And go with you. Caf. Ancient, what makes he here? [Exit Othello. Iago. 'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack; If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. Caf. I do not uuderstand. Iago. He's married. Caf. To whom? Iago. Marry to — Come, captain, will you go? Enter Othello. Oth. Have with you. Caf. Here comes another troop to feek for you. Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers and torches. Iago. It is Brabantio; General, be advis❜d, He comes to bad intent. Oth. Holla! ftand there. Rod. Signior, it is the Moor. Bra. Down with him, thief. [They draw on both fides. Oth. Keep up your bright fwords, for the dew will ruft 'em. z curled . . . old. edit. Warb, emend. Of |