Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Donald Bailey
Peer Reviewed

Othello (Quarto 1, 1622)

3
the Moore of Venice.

And such a one doe I professe my selfe, ---- for sir,
It is as sure as you are Roderigo,
Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago:
In following him, I follow but my selfe.
65Heauen is my iudge, not I,
For loue and duty, but seeming so,
For my peculiar end.
For when my outward action does demonstrate
The natiue act, and figure of my heart,
In complement externe, tis not long after,
70But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue,
For Doues to pecke at,
I am not what I am.
Rod. What a full fortune does the thicklips owe,
If he can carry'et thus?
Ia. Call vp her father,
75Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight,
Proclaime him in the streete, incense her Kinsmen,
And tho he in a fertile climate dwell,
Plague him with flyes: tho that his ioy be ioy,
Yet throw such changes of vexation out,
80As it may loose some colour.
Rod Here is her fathers house, Ile call aloud.
Ia. Doe with like timerous accent, and dire yell,
As when by night and negligence, the fire
Is spied in populous Citties.
85Rod. What ho, Brabantio; Seignior Brabantio, ho,
Ia. Awake, what ho, Brabantio,
Theeues, theeues, theeues:
Looke to your house, you Daughter, and your bags.
Theeues, theeues.

Brabantio at a window.
Brab. What is the reason of this terrible summons?
90What is the matter there?
Rod. Seignior, is all your family within?
Ia. Are all doore lockts?
Brab.
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