What is the matter there?
Signior, is all your family within?
Are your doors lock'd?
Why, wherefore ask you this?
'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Arise, I say.
What, have you lost your wits?
Most reverend signior, do you know my voice?
Not Iwhat are you?
My name is Roderigo.
The worser welcome:
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come
To start my quiet.
Sir, sir, sir,--
But thou must needs be sure
To make this bitter to thee.
Patience, good sir.
What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice;
My house is not a grange.
Most grave Brabantio,
In simple and pure soul I come to you.
'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter
Thou art a villain.
You are--a senator.
This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo.
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 watch o' the night,
If this be known to you and your allowance,
We then have done you bold 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,
Your daughter, if you have not given her leave,
I say again, hath made a gross revolt;
Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes
If she be in her chamber or your house,
For thus deluding you.
Strike on the tinder, ho!
Give me a taper! call up all my people!
Belief of it oppresses me already.
Light, I say! light!
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