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! Look to your house, your daughter, and your bags! Thieves, thieves! 

 Brabantio appears above at a window.

Brabantio

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 charg’d 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. 

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