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Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;
hangman. Iago. Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse
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,
21. almost damn'd in a fair authority. wife. The most plausible inter
25. consuls, councillors. pretation is 'almost married' to Bianca; the .epithet indicating
31. counter - caster, i.e. either the disreputableness of
'arithmetician'; he has been this match or Iago's scorn for
in the accounts branch'; a marriage in general.
'pen-and-ink soldier.' L. 24. theoric, theory.
32. in good time, 'forsooth'; 25. toged, wearing the toga here ironical, like .à la bonne of civil (as distinct from military) heure.'
Whether I in any just term am affined
I would not follow him then.
their coats Do themselves homage : these fellows have some
And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir,
Rod. What a full förtune does the thick-lips owe,
39. in any just term affined, 50. visages, outward semrelated to him in such a way as blances. to be bound.
66. owe, own.
Call up her father,
Rod. 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. Rod. What, ho, Brabantio ! Signior Brabantio,
ho! lago. Awake! what, ho, Brabantio ! thieves !
thieves ! thieves ! Look to your house, your daughter and your bags ! 80 Thieves ! thieves !
BRABANTIO appears above, at a window.
Rod. Signior, is all your family within ?
Why, wherefore ask you this? lago. 'Zounds, sir, you 're robb'd; for shame,
put on your gown;
Bra. What, have you lost your wits?
Rod. My name is Roderigo.
The worser welcome :
Rod. Sir, sir, sir,
But thou must needs be sure
Patience, good sir.
Most grave Brabantio,
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 110 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.
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 beast with two backs.
Bra. Thou art a villain.
You area senator.
100. Upon, out of.
107. In simple and pure soul, 106. a grange, an outlying with absolutely honest intent. granary.
112. nephews, grandsons.
Rod. Sir, I will answer any thing.
But, I be
If’t be your pleasure and most wise consent,
know not this, my manners tell me
Strike on the tinder, ho!
[Exit above. Iago.
Farewell; for I must leave you :
124. odd-even, the undefined time after midnight which may be called either 'late' or 'early.'
124. dull, slumberous.