SCENE I. Venice. A street
Enter RODERIGO and IAGO
RODERIGO
Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
IAGO
'Sblood, but you will not hear me:
If ever I did dream of such a matter, abhor me.
RODERIGO
Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
IAGO
Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant
Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:
But he; as loving his own pride and purposes
Evades them, with a bombast circumstance
Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
And, in conclusion
Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he
'I have already chose my officer.'
And what was he?
Forsooth, a great arithmetician
One Michael Ca**io, a Florentine
A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;
That never set a squadron in the field
Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric
Wherein the toged consuls can propose
As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise
Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds
Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd
By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be
And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient!
RODERIGO
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
IAGO
Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service
Preferment goes by letter and affection
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
RODERIGO
I would not follow him then.
IAGO
O, sir, content you;
I follow him to serve my turn upon him:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave
That, doting on his own obsequious bondage
Wears out his time, much like his master's a**
For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd:
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves
And, throwing but shows of service on their lords
Do well thrive by them and when they have lined
Their coats
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
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
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 thicklips 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 changes 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
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 appears above, at a window
BRABANTIO
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there?
RODERIGO
Signior, is all your family within?
IAGO
Are your doors lock'd?
BRABANTIO
Why, wherefore ask you this?
IAGO
'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; 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 topping 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.
BRABANTIO
What, have you lost your wits?
RODERIGO
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
BRABANTIO
Not I what are you?
RODERIGO
My name is Roderigo.
BRABANTIO
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,--
BRABANTIO
But thou must needs be sure
My spirit and my place have in them power
To make this bitter to thee.
RODERIGO
Patience, good sir.
BRABANTIO
What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
My house is not a grange.
RODERIGO
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 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 gennets for germans.
BRABANTIO
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.
BRABANTIO
Thou art a villain.
IAGO
You are--a senator.
BRABANTIO
This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
RODERIGO
Sir, I will answer any thing. 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' the 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 every where. 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.
BRABANTIO
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 above
IAGO
Farewell; for I must leave you:
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place
To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall--
Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state
However this may gall him with some cheque
Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars
Which even now stand 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, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches
BRABANTIO
It is too true an evil: gone she is;
And what's to come of my despised time
Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo
Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!
With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father!
How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me
Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers:
Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you?
RODERIGO
Truly, I think they are.
BRABANTIO
O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood!
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act. Is there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?
RODERIGO
Yes, sir, I have indeed.
BRABANTIO
Call up my brother. O, would you had had her!
Some one way, some another. Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?
RODERIGO
I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard and go along with me.
BRABANTIO
Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;
I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night.
On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains.
Exeunt