For when my outward action doth demonftrate Rod. What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe, If he can carry't thus? Iago. Call up her father, Roufe him. Make after him, poifon his delight, Rod. Here is her father's house, I'll call aloud. In compliment extern,--] In that which I do only for an outward thew of civility. 2 As when, by night and negligence, the fire Is SPIED in populous cities.] This is not fenfe, take it which way you will. If night and negligence relate to Spied, it is abfurd to fay the fire was Spied by negligence. If night and negligence refer only to the time and occafion, it fhould then be by night, and thro' negligence. Otherwise the particle by would be made to fignify time applied to one word, and cafe applied to the other. We fhould read there. fore, I SPRED, by which all thefe faults are avoided. But what is of moft weight, the fi militude, thus emended, agrees beft with the fact it is applied to. Had this notice been given to Brabantia before his daughter ran away and married, it might then indeed have been well enough compared to the alarm given of a fire juft fpied, affoon as it was begun. But being given after the parties were bedded, it was more fitly compared to a fire Sped by night and negligence, fo as not to be extinguished. WARBURTON. The particle is ufed equivo cally; the fame liberty is taken. by writers more correct. Y 2 The wonderful creature! a wo- Rod. Rod. What, ho! Brabantio! Signior Brabantio! ho. Iago. Awake! what, ho! Brabantio! ho! Thieves! thieves! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags. Thieves thieves! SCENE II. Brabantio appears above, at a Window. Bra. What is the reason of this terrible fummons? What is the matter there? Rod. Signior, is all your family within ? Bra. Why? Wherefore ask you this ? Iago. Sir, you are robb'd. For fhame, put on your Your heart is burft, you have lost half your foul ; Bra. What, have you loft your wits? Rod. Moft reverend fignior, do you know my voice? Rod. My name is Rodorigo. Bra. The worfer welcome. I've charg'd thee not to haunt about my doors. My daughter's not for thee; and now in madness, 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 To make this bitter to thee. Rod. Patience, good Sir. Bra. What tell❜ft thou me of robbing? This is Ve- My houfe is not a grange. Rod. Moft grave Brabantio, In fimple and pure foul, I come to you. lago. Sir, you are one of those 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 profane wretch art thou? Iago. 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, Rodo rigo. Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing. But I beseech you, *If't be your pleasure and moft wife confent, But if you know not this, my manners tell me, I thus would play, and trifle with your reverence. Bra. Strike on the tinder, ho! Give me a taper. Call up all my people. Iago. Farewell; for I must leave you. Against the Moor. For I do know, the State, Which ev'n now ftand in act, that, for their fouls, To lead their bufinefs. In which regard, I must shew out a flag and fign of love : Which is, indeed, but fign. That you may furely find him, Lead to the Sagittary the rais'd fearch; And there will I be with him. -Jome check, ] Some re buke. So, farewel. [Exit. miss him; reject him. We still fay, a caft coat, and a caft ferving man. SCENE SCENE III. Enter Brabantio, and fervants with torches. Bra. It is too true an evil. Gone fhe is; With the Moor, faidft thou? Who would be a fa ther? - How didst thou know 'twas she? Oh, thou deceiv'ft me Paft thought.-What faid fhe to you?-Get more tapers, Raife all my kindred.-Are they married, think you? Rod. Truly, I think, they are. Bra. Oh heaven! how gat fhe out? Oh treason of my blood! Fathers, from hence truft not your daughters' minds Rod. Yes, Sir, I have, indeed. |