ACT ONE Scene One
［Venice,a street. Enter RODERIGO and IAGO］
RODERIGO
Tush！never tell me； Itake 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 everI did dream of such a matter，abhorme．
RODERIGO
Thou told’stme thou didsthold him in thy hate．
IAGO
Despise me， ifI do not．Three great onesof the city，
In personalsuit to make me his lieutenant，
Off－capp’ d to him： and， by the faithof man，
I know my price，Iam worth no worse a place：
But he； as loving his own pride and purposes，
Evades them，witha bombast circumstance
Horribly stuff’dwith epithets of war；
And， in conclusion，
Nonsuits my mediators； for，（Certes）， says he，
‘I have already chosemy office r’．
And what was he？
Forsooth, a great arithmetician，
One MichaelCassio， a Florentine，
A fellow almost damn’din a fair wife；
That never set a squadronin the field，
Nor the divisionof a battle knows
More than a spinster； unlessthe bookish theoric，
Wherein the toged consulscan 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： thiscounter－caster．
He，in good time， must his lieutenant be，
And I—God blessthe mark！—his Moorship’s ancient．
RODERIGO
By heaven，Iratherwould have been his hangman．
IAGO
Why， there’s no remedy；’tis thecurse 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，
Wheth Iinany just termam 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 ass,
Fornoughtbutprovender， andwhenhe’sold，cashier’d：
Whip me suchhonest knaves．Others there are
Who， trimm’d in forms and visage of duty，
Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves，
And，throwing butshowsof service on their lords，
Do well thriveby them and when they have lined their coats
Dothemselveshomage：these fellows have some soul；
And such a one doI profess myself For， sir，
It is as sure as you are Roderigo，
Were I the Moox，I would not be Iago：
In following him，I follow but myself；
Heaven is my judge， notI for love and duty，
But seeming so，for my peculiar end:
For when my outward action doth demonstrate
The native act and figure ofmy heart
In compliment extern，’tisnot long after
ButI will wear myheart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck at：Iam not whatI 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 change so fvexationon’t，
As itmay lose some colour.
RODERIGO
Here is her father’s house； I’llcall 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！tjoeves!
Look toyour 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， whereforeask you this？
IAGO
‘Zounds，sir， you’re robb’d； forshame，puton
your gown；
Your heart is burst， you have lost half your soul；
Even now， now， very now， an old black ram
Is toppingyour white ewe．Arise，arise；
Awake the snorting citizenswith thebell，
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you：
Arise， Isay．
BRABANTIO
What，have you lost your wits？
RODERIGO
Most reverendsignior，do you know my voice？
BRABANTIO
What are you？
RODERIGO
My name isRoderigo.
BRABANTIO
The worser Welcome：
I have charged theenot tohauntabout my doors：
In honest plainnessthou hast heard mesay
My daughter isnot forthee；and now，inmadness，
Being fullof supper and distemperingdraughts，
Upon malicious bravery， dost thou come
To start my quiet．
RODERIGO
Sir, sir, sir，——
BRABANTIO
But thou must needsbesure
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 graveBrabantio，
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 Barbaty horse;
you’ll have your nephews neigh to you；you’ll have
coursersfor cousinsand gennetsforgermanstimorous.
BRABANTIO
What profane wretch art thou？
IAGO
Iam 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 shaltanswer；I know thee， Roderigo
RODERIGO
Sir，I will answer any thing． But， Ibeseech 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 watcho’ the night，
Transported,with now or senor better guard
But with aknave of common hire， a gondolier，
To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor——
If this be known to you and your allowance，
We thenhave doneyou bolk 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， hathmade 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 looseon me the justice of the state
For thus deludingyou
BRABANTIO
Strike on the tinder， ho！
Give me a taper！ cal up all my people！
This accident is not unlike my dream：
Belief of it oppresses me already
Light， Isay！ light！
［Exit above］
IAGO
Farewell； forI must leave you：
It seems not meet，nor wholesome to my place，
To be produced——as， ifI stay，I shall——
Against the Moor：for，Ido know，the state，
Howeverthismaygall him withsomecheque，
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，
Toleadtheirbusiness：inwhichregard，
ThoughI do hate him asI do hell－pains．
Yet， for necessity of prasent life，
I must show out a flag and sign of love，
Which isindeed but sign． That you shall surely find him，
Lead to the Sagittary the raised search；
And there will Ibe 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 ofmy 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 didstthouknow’twasshe？Oshedeceives me
Pastthought！What saidshetoyou？Get more tapers：
Raise all my kindred Are they married，think you？
RODERIGO
Truly， Ithink tney are．
BRABANTIO
O heaven！ How gotshe out？ O treasonof 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， Ihave 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 theMoor？
RODERIGO
I think Ican discoverhim，ifyou please，
Togetgood guard and go alongwith me．
BRABANTIO
Pray you， lead on． At every houseI’ll call；
I may commandatmost．Getweapons，ho!
And raise sime special officers of night.
On， good Roderigo： I’ll deserve your pains．
［Exeunt］＜T＜xt＞小＜说天？堂