I have already chose my officer. Forsooth, a great arithmetician, A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;1 More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,2 As masterly as he mere prattle, without practice, 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; 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❜d5 To love the Moor. Rod. I would not follow him then: Iago. O, sir, content you; I follow him to serve my turn upon him: (1) For wife some read life, supposing it to allude to the denunciation in the Gospel, wo unto you when all men shall speak well of you. (2) Theory. (3) Rulers of the state. (4) It was anciently the practice to reckon up sums with counters. (5) Related. Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, Whip me such honest knaves: Others there are, Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; And such a one do I profess myself. It is as sure as you are Roderigo, Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: Iago. Rod. Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. lago. Do; with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire (1) Outward show of civility. (2) Own, possess. Is spied in populous cities. Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! signior Braoantio, ho! Jago. 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: Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise; Bra. What, have you lost your wits? 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 distempering2 draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start my quiet. Rod. Sir, sir, sir, sir, Bra. But thou must needs be sure, My spirit, and my place, have in them power (1) i. e. Is broken. (2) Intoxicating. To make this bitter to thee. Rod. Patience, good sir. Bra. What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; In simple and pure soul Most grave Brabantio, 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 you: you'll have coursers for cousins, and gennets for germans.2 Bra. What profane wretch art thou? lago. I am one, sir, that comes to tell you, your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. Bra. Thou art a villain. Jago. You are a senator. E. This thou shalt answer: I Roderigo. know thee, Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you, If't be your pleasure, and most wise consent I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: (1) A lone farm-house. (3) Midnight. (5) Approbation. (2) Relations. (4) A waterman. Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,- Bra. Exit from above. Against the Moor: For, I do know, the state,- To lead their business: in which regard, I must show out a flag and sign of love, Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd search; And there will I be with him. So, farewell. [Ex. (1) Wandering. (2) Dismiss. (3) Old age. |