Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affin’d
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 ass,
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 lin’d 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 demónstrate
The native act and figure of my heart
In complement 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 thick lips 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 color.
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!
SCENE II
[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 locked?
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 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.
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 anything. 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