Rod.
Tush, ^note never tell me; I take it much ^note unkindly
That thou ^note, Iago, ^note who hast ^note had ^note my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. ^{note note}

Iago.
'Sblood, ^note but you will ^note not hear me:
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me. ^{note note note}

Rod.
Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. ^note

Iago.
Despise me ^note, if I do not ^note. Three great ones of the city,
In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,
Off-capp'd ^note to him: and, by the faith of man,
I know my price, I am ^note worth no worse ^note a place:
But he, as loving his own ^note pride and purposes ^note,
Evades them, with a bombast ^note circumstance
Horribly stuff'd with epithets ^note of war;
And, in conclusion, ^{note note}
Nonsuits my mediators; for ^note, ‘Certes,’ ^note says he,
‘I have already ^note chose ^note my officer.’
And what was he? ^note
Forsooth, a great arithmetician ^note,
One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,
A fellow almost damn'd ^note in a fair wife ^{note note}; ^note
That never set a squadron in the field,

Nor the division of a battle knows
More than a spinster; ^note unless ^note the bookish ^note theoric,
Wherein the toged ^note consuls ^note can propose
As masterly as he ^note: mere prattle without practice
Is all ^note his soldiership. But he, sir, had ^note the election:
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
At Rhodes, at Cyprus ^note and on other ^note grounds
Christian ^note and heathen, must be be-lee'd ^note and calm'd
By debitor ^note and creditor: this counter-caster, ^note
He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,
And I—God bless the mark!— ^note his Moorship's ^note ancient.

Rod.
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

Iago.
Why ^note, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, ^{note note}
Preferment goes by letter ^note and affection,
And not by old ^note gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself ^note
Whether ^note I in any just term am affined ^note
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:
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters

Cannot be truly follow'd ^note. 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 ass,
For nought ^note but provender, and when ^note he's old, ^{note note} cashier'd: ^note
Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are
Who, trimm'd in forms and visages ^note of duty,
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves,
And throwing but shows of service on their lords ^note
Do well ^note thrive by them ^note, and when they have ^note lined their coats
Do themselves homage: these ^note fellows ^{note note} have some soul, ^note
And such a one ^note do I profess myself.
For, sir, ^note
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: ^note
For when my outward action doth ^note demonstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In compliment ^note extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve

For daws ^note to peck at: I am not what I am. ^{note note}

Rod.
What a full ^note fortune does the thick-lips ^note owe,
If he can carry't ^note thus!

Iago.
Call up her father,
Rouse him: ^note make after him, poison his delight,
Proclaim him in the streets ^note; incense her kinsmen,
And, though ^note he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy,
Yet throw such changes ^note of vexation on't ^note
As it may lose some colour.

Rod.
Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud.

Iago.
Do; with like timorous ^note accent and dire yell
As when, by night and negligence, the fire ^note
Is spied ^note in populous cities.

Rod.
What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho!

Iago.
Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! ^{note note}
Look to your house, your daughter ^note and your ^note bags! ^note
Thieves! thieves! Brabantio appears above, at a window.

Bra. ^note
What is the reason of this terrible summons?
What is the matter there? ^note

Rod.
Signior, is all your family within?

Iago.
Are your ^note doors lock'd? ^note

Bra.
Why, wherefore ask you this?

Iago.
'Zounds ^note, sir, you're ^note robb'd; for shame, put on your gown;
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; ^note
Even now, now ^note, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping 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 ^note. ^note

Bra.
What, have you lost your wits?

Rod.
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?

Bra.
Not I: what are you?

Rod.
My name is Roderigo.

Bra.
The worser ^note welcome:
I have ^note charged thee not to haunt about my doors:
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is ^note not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery ^note, dost thou come
To start my quiet. ^note

Rod.
Sir, sir, sir,— ^note

Bra.
But thou must needs be sure
My spirit ^note and my place have in them ^note power
To make this bitter to thee.

Rod.
Patience, good ^note sir.

Bra.
What tell'st ^note thou me of robbing? this is Venice;

My house is not a grange. ^note

Rod.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.

Iago.

'Zounds ^note, sir, you are none of those that will not serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to do you service and you ^note 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 ^note.

Bra.

What profane wretch art thou?

Iago.

I am one, sir, that comes ^note to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now ^note making the beast with two backs.

Bra.
Thou art a villain.

Iago.
You are—a ^note senator.

Bra.
This thou shalt answer; ^note I know thee, Roderigo.

Rod.
Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech ^note you,
If't be your pleasure and most wise consent,
As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter,
At ^note this odd-even ^{note note} and dull watch o' the night,
Transported ^note with no worse nor ^note better guard
But with a knave of common ^note hire, a gondolier ^note,
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor,—
If this be known to you, and your ^note allowance,
We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; ^note
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 ^note an extravagant and wheeling ^{note note} stranger
Of here and ^note every where. Straight satisfy yourself:
If she be in her ^note chamber or your house,
Let loose on me the justice of the state
For thus deluding you ^note.

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 oppresses me already.
Light, I say! light! [Exit above. ^note

Iago.
Farewell; for I must leave you:
It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place ^note,
To be produced ^note—as, if I stay, I shall—
Against the Moor: for I do know, the state,
However ^note this may gall him with some check,
Cannot with safety cast him; for he's ^note embark'd
With such loud reason to the Cyprus ^note wars ^note,
Which even now stand ^note in act, that, for their souls,
Another of his fathom ^note they have none ^note
To lead their business ^note: in which regard,

Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains ^note,
Yet for necessity of present life,
I must show out a flag and sign of love,
Which is indeed but sign. That ^note you shall surely find ^note him,
Lead to the Sagittary ^note the raised search;
And there will I be with him. So farewell. [Exit. ^noteEnter ^note, below, Brabantio, in his night-gown, and Servants with torches.

Bra.
It is too true an evil: gone she is;
And what's to come of my despised ^note time
Is ^note nought ^note but bitterness. Now ^note, Roderigo,
Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl!
With the Moor, say'st ^note thou? Who would be a father!
How didst thou know 'twas she? O, she deceives ^note me
Past thought! What said she to you? Get more ^note tapers.
Raise all my kindred ^note. Are they married, think you?

Rod.
Truly, I think they are ^note.

Bra.
O heaven! How got ^note she out? O treason of the blood ^note! ^note
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act. Is ^note there not charms

By which the property of youth and maidhood ^note
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing? ^note

Rod.
Yes, sir, I have indeed. ^note

Bra.
Call up my brother ^note. O, would ^note you had had her!
Some one way, some 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 ^note on. At every house I'll call;
I may command at most. Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night ^note.
On, good Roderigo; I'll ^note deserve your pains. [Exeunt. ^note

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