Awake the fnorting Citizens with the Bell, know my Bra. What, have you loft your Wits? Rod. My Name is Rodorigo. Bra. The worfer welcome; I have charg'd thee not to haunt about my Doors : My Daughter is not for thee. And now in Madness, Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir Bra. But thou must needs be fure, My Spirits and my Place have in their Power To make this bitter to thee. Rod. Patience, good Sir. Voice? Bra. What tell'ft thou me of Robbing? This is Venice: My Houfe is not a Grange. Rod. Moft grave Brabantio, In fimple and pure Soul, I come to you. Jago. Sir, you are one of thofe that will not ferve God, if the Devil bid you. Becaufe we come to do you Service, and you think we are Ruffians, you'll have your Daugh ter cover'd with a Barbary Horfe, you'll have your Ne phews neigh to you, you'll have Courfers for Coufins, and Gennets for Germans. Bra. What profane Wretch art thou? Jago. I am one, Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter and the Moor are making the Beast with two Backs. Bra. Thou art a Villain. Fago. You are a Senator. Bra. This thou shalt answer. I know thee, Rodorigo. Rod. Sir, I willanfwer any thing. But I befeech 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, Tranfported with no worse or better guard, But with a Knave of common hire, a Gundalier, Το To the grofs clafps of a lafcivious Moor: 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. Bra. Strike on the Tinder, ho! Give me a Taper----call up all my People,---- Light, I fay, light! Jago. Farewel; for I must leave you. To lead their Bufinefs. In which regard, I muft fhew out a Flag, and fign of Love, Which is indeed but fign: that you fhall furely find him, Lead to the Sagittary the raised Search; And there will I be with him. So farewel. [Exit. Enter Brabantio in his Night-gown, with Servants and Torebes. Bra. It is too true an Evil. Gone fhe is, And what's to come of my despised time, Is naught but bitternefs. Now, Rodorigo, Where didft thou fee her? Oh unhappy Girl!Ii 4 With With the Moor faift thou? Who would be a Father? Bra. Oh Heav'n! how got the out? Fathers, from hence truft not your Daughters Minds 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 difcover him, if you please To get good Guard, and go along with me. Bra. Pray you lead on. At every House I'll call, I may command at moft, get Weapons, hoa! And raise fome fpecial Officers of might : On, good Rodorigo, I will deferve your Pains. SCENE II. The Street. [Exeunt. Enter Othello, Jago, and Attendants, with Torches. Jago. Nay, but he prated, And spoke such scurvy and provoking Terms Against your Honour, that with the little Godliness I have, That the Magnifico is much belov'd, The The Law, with all his might to enforce it on, Oth. Let him do his fpight: My Services, which I have done the Signory,' I would not my unhoufed free Condition For the Seas worth. But look! what Lights come yond? Enter Caffio with Torches. Jago. Thofe are the raised Father, and his Friends: You were beft go in. Oth. Not I; I muft be found. My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soul Shall manifeft me rightly, Is it they? Lieutenant : Oth. The Servants of the Duke, and my Caf. The Duke does greet you, General, And he requires your hafte, Post-hafte appearance, 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 Confuls, 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 Senate hath fent about three feveral Quefts, To fearch you out. Oth. 'Tis well I am found by you: I will but spend a word here in the House, [Exit Othello. Caf. Caf. Ancient, what makes he here? Fago. Faith, he to Night hath boorded a Land Carrac, If it prove lawful Prize, he's made for ever. Caf. I do not understand. Fago. He's married. Caf. To whom? Fago. Marry to-Come, Captain, will you go Oth. Have with Enter Othello. you. Caf. Here comes another Troop to feek for you. 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. Jago. You Rodorigo! Come, Sir, I am for you Oth. Keep up your bright Swords, for the Dew will ruft 'em. Good Signior, you fhall more command with Years, Than with your Weapons. Bra. Oh thou foul Thief! Where haft thou ftow'd my Damn'd as thou art, thou haft enchanted her, Othe |