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Wherein the toged counf'lors can propofen(2)
As mafterly as he; mere prattle, without practice,
Is all his foldierfhiphe had th' election; an
And I, of whom his eyes had feen the proof.
At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds
Christian and heathen must be belee'd and calm'd
By Debitor and Creditor, this Counter-Cafter;
He, in good time, muft his lieutenant be,

And I, (God blefs the mark!) his moor-fhip's ancient.
Rod. By Heav'n, I rather would have been his hangman.
Iago. But there's no remedy, 'tis the curfe of fervice;
Preferment goes by letter and affection,

And not by old gradation, where each fecond
Stood heir to th' firft. Now, Sir, be judge yourself,
If I in any just term am affign'd

To love the Moor.

Rod. I would not follow him then.

Iago. O Sir, content you;

I follow him to ferve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be matters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave,
That, doting on his own obfequious bondage,


(2) Wherein the tongued Confuls.] So the generality of the Impreffions read; but the oldeft Quarto has it toged; (which gave the Hint for my Emendation;) the Senators, that affifted the Duke in Council, in their proper Gowes.me But let me explain why I have ventured to fubftitute Counsellors in the Room of Confuls; and then, I hope, the Alteration will not appear arbitrary. enetian Nobility, it is well known, conftitute the great Council Senate, and are a Part of the Adminiftration; and fummoned to affift and counsel the Doge, who is Prince of the Senate; and, in that Regard, has only Precedency before the other Magif trates. So that, in this Refpect, they may very properly be called Counsellors. Bendes, though the Government of Venice was Democra tick at firft, under Confuls and Tribunes; that Form of Power has been totally abrogated, fince Doges have been elected: And whatever Confuls of other States may be refident there, yet they have no more a Voice, or Place, in the publick Councils, or in what concerns Peace or War than foreign Ambassadors can have in our Parliament.


Wears out his time, much like his mafter's afs,
For nought but provender; and when he's old, cashier'd;
Whip me fuch honeft knaves- -Others there are,
Who, trimm'd in forms and vifages of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves;
And, throwing but fhows of fervice on their lords,
Well thrive by them; and when they've lin'd their coats,
Do themselves homage. Thefe folks have fome foul,
And fuch a one do I profefs myself.

It is as fure as you are Rodrigo,

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Were I the Moor, I would not be lago:
In following him, I follow but myself,
Heav'n is my judge, not I, for love and duty:
But, feeming fo, 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 fleeve,
For daws to peck at; I'm not what I feem.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe,
If he can carry her thus ?


Iago. Call up her father,
Roufe him, make after him,
Proclaim him in the streets,
And tho' he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies; tho' that his joy be joy,..
Yet throw fuch changes of vexation on't,

poifon his delight; et
incenfe her kinsmen :

As it may lofe some colour.

Rod. Here is her father's houfe, I'll call aloud. Iago. Do, with like timorous accent, and dire yell, As when, by night and negligence, the fire

Is fpied in populous cities.

Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! Signior Brabantio! ho. Jago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! ho! thieves ! thieves!

Look to your houfe, your daughter, and your bags:




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 afk you this?

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Iago. Zounds! Sir, you're robb'd, for fhame, put on

your gown;

Your heart is burft, you have loft half your foul:
Ev'n now, ev'n very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arife, arife,
Awake the fnorting citizens with the bell,

Or elfe the Devil will make a grand fire of you.
Arife, I fay.

Bra. What, have you loft your wits?

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

Rod. My name is Roderige.
Bra. The worse welcome;

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I've charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honeft 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'it thou me of robbing? this is Fenice: My houfe is not a grange.

Rod. Moft grave Brabantio,

In fimple and pure foul, I come to you.

Jago. Zounds! Sir, you are one of thofe 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 horse, you'll have



your nephews neigh to you; you'll have courfers for coufins, and gennets for germanes.

Bra. What prophane wretch art thou?

lago. 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.

Iago. You are a fenator.

Bra. This thou fhalt anfwer. I know thee, Rodrigo. Rod. Sir, I will anfwer any thing. But I befeech 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 worfe nor better guard,
But with a knave of hire, a Gondelier,

To the grofs clafps of a lafcivious Moor:
If this be known to you, and your allowance,
We then have done you bold and faucy 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 giv'n her leave,
I fay again, bath made a grofs.revolt;

Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
To an extravagant and wheeling ftranger,
Of here and every where; ftraight fatisfy yourself.
If he be in her chamber, or your houfe,

Let loofe 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 must leave you.
It feems not meet, nor wholfome to my place,
To be produc'd (as, if I ftay, I fhall)
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 reason to the Cyprus' wars,

Which ev'n now fland in act, that, for their fouls,

Another of his fadom they have none,

To lead their bufinefs. In which regard,
Tho' I do hate him as I do hell's pains,
Yet, for neceflity of prefent life,

I muft fhew out a flag and fign of love:

(Which is, indeed, but fign.) Thatyou may furely find him, Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd fearch;

And there will I be with him. So, farewel.

Enter Brabantio, and fervants with torches.


Bra. It is too true an evil. Gone fhe is; And what's to come of my defpifed time, Is nought but bitternefs. Now, Roderigo, Where didft thou fee her oh unhappy girl! With the Moor, faidft thou? who would be a father? How didft thou know 'twas he? oh, the deceives me Paft thought-What faid the to you? get more tapersRaife all my kindred-are they married, think you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are..

Bra. Oh heaven! how gat fhe out? Oh treafon 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, Rodorigo,
Of fome fuch thing?

Rod. Yes, Sir, I have, indeed.

Bru. 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 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 raife fome fpecial officers of might: On, good Roderige, I'll deferve your pains.



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