Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags:
Thieves thieves!

Brabantio appears above, at a window.

Bra. What is the reafon of this terrible fummons ? What is the matter there?

Rod. Signior, is all your family within?
Iago. Are all doors lock'd?.

Bra. Why? wherefore ask you this?

Iago. Zounds! Sir, you're robb'd: for shame, put on
your Gown;

Your heart is burst, you have loft half your foul;
Ev'n now, ev'n very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arife, arise,
Awake the fnorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the Devil will make a grandfire of you.
Arife, I fay.

Bra. What, have you loft your wits?

Rod. Moft reverend fignior, do you know my voice?
Bra. Not I; what are you?

Rod. My name is Rodorigo.

Bra. The worfe welcome;

I've charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honest plainnefs thou haft heard me fay,

My daughter's not for thee. And now in madness,
Being full of fupper and diftemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious bravery doft thou come

To start my quiet.

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir

Bra. But thou must needs be fure,

My fpirit and my place have in their power
To make this bitter to thee.

Rod. Patience, good Sir.

Bra. What tell't thou me of robbing? this is Venice: My houfe is not a grange.

Rod. Moft grave Brabantio,

In fimple and pure foul, I come to you.

Iago. Zounds! Sir, you are one of those that will not ferve God, if the Devil bid you. Because we come to do you fervice, 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 germanes.

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.

Jago. You are a fenator.

Bra. This thou fhalt anfwer. I know thee, Rodorigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech

you,

If't be your pleasure and moft wife confent,

(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 hire, a Gundalier,
To the grofs clafps of a lafcivious Moor:
If this be known to you, and your allowance,
We then have done you bold and fawcy wrongs.
But if you know not this, my manners tell me,
We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe,
That from the fenfe of all civility

I thus would play, and trifle with your reverence.
Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
I fay again, hath made a grofs revolt

Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes

To an extravagant and wheeling stranger,

Of here and every where; ftraight fatisfie your felf.
If the be in her chamber, or your house,

Let loose on me the juftice of the State

For thus deluding you.

Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho!

Give me a taper ;-call up all my people;
This accident is not unlike my Dream,

Belief of it oppreffes me already.

Light, I fay, light!

lago. Farewel; for I muft leave you.

It seems not meet, nor wholfome to my place,
To be produc'd (as, if I ftay, I fhall)

Against

Against the Moor. For I do know, the State,
However this may gall him with some check,"
Cannot with fafety caft him. For he's embark'd
With fuch loud reafon to the Cyprus' wars,
Which ev'n now ftand in act, that, for their fouls,
Another of his fadom they have none,
To lead their bufinels. In which regard,
Tho' I do hate him as I do hell's pains,
Yet, for neceffity of present life,

I muft fhew out a flag and fign of love:
(Which is, indeed, but fign)
find him,

That you may furely

Lead to the Sagittary the raised fearch;'
And there will I be with him. So, farewel.

[Exit.

Enter Brabantio, and fervants with torches.

Bra. It is too true an evil.

Gone fhe is;

And what's to come of my defpised time,

Is nought but bitterness. Now, Rodorigo,
Where didft thou fee her? oh unhappy girl!

With the Moor, faidft thou? who would be a father?
How didft thou know 'twas fhe? oh, fhe deceives me
Paft thought
What faid fhe to you? get more

tapers

Raife all my kindredare they married, think you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are.

Bra. Oh heaven! how gat fhe out?

Oh treason of my blood!

Fathers, from hence truft not your daughters' minds

By what you fee them act.

Are there not charms,

By which the property of youth and maidhood

May be abus'd? have you not read, Roderigo,

Of fome fuch thing?

Rod. Yes, Sir, I have, indeed.

Bra. Call up my brother: 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 difcover him, if you please To get good guard, and go along with me.

Bra.

I

Bra. Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call, may command at moft; get weapons, hoa!

And raise fome special officers of might:

On, good Roderigo, I'll deferve your pains. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to another STREET, before the Sagittary.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Attendants with Torches.

Iago. T

HO' 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.

Oth. It's better as it is.

Iago. Nay, but he prated,

And spoke fuch fcurvy and provoking terms
Against your honour;

That, with the little godliness I have,

I did full hard forbear him. But I pray, Sir,
Are you faft married? for, be fure of this,
That the Magnifico is much belov'd, -
And hath in his effect a voice potential
As double as the Duke's: he will divorce you,
Or put upon you what restraint or grievance
The law (with all his might t'enforce it on)
Will give him cable.

Oth. Let him do his spight:

My fervices, which I have done the Signory,
Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,
(Which, when I know that Boafting is an honour,
I fhall promulgate) I fetch my Life and Being (3)
From

(3)- -I fetch my Life and Being

From Men of royal Siege; and my Demerits

May Speak unbonnetted to as proud a Fortune

As this that I have reach'd.] Thus all the Copies read this Paffage. But, to speak unbonnetted, is to speak with the Cap off, which is directly oppofite to the Poet's Meaning. Othello means

to

From men of royal fiege; and my demerits
May speak, and bonnetted, to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reach'd. For know, lago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,

I would not my unhoufed free condition
Put into circumfcription and confine,

For the fea's worth. But look! what lights come yonder? Enter Caffio, with torches.

Iago. Those are the raised father, and his friends: You were beft go in.

Oth. Not I: I must be found.

My parts, my title and my perfect Soul
Shall manifeft me rightly. Is it they?

Iago. By Janus, I think, no.

Oth. The Servants of the Duke, and my lieutenant: The goodness of the night upon you, friends!

What is the news?

Caf. The Duke does greet you, General;

And he requires your hafte, post-haste, appearance,
Ev'n on the inftant.

Oth. What is the matter, think you?

Caf. Something from Cyprus, as I may divine;
It is a bufinefs of fome heat. The Gallies
Have fent a dozen fequent meffengers

This very night, at one anothers heels:

And many of the Counf'lors, rais'd and met, (4) Are at the Duke's already. You have been hotly call'd for,

to say, that his Birth and Services fet him upon fuch a Rank, that he may fpeak to a Senator of Venice with his Hat on; i. e. without fhewing any marks of Deference, or Inequality. I, therefore, am inclin'd to think, Shakespeare wrote;

May speak, and bonnetted, &c.

(4) And many of the Confuls rais'd and met,

Are at the Duke's already.] Thus all the Editions concur in reading; but there is no fuch Character as a Conful appears in any Part of the Play. I change it to, Counsellors; i. c. the Grandees that conftitute the great Council at Venice. The Reafon I have already given, above, in the Close of the ad Note.

When,