With the Moor, say'st thou?--Who would be a father!
How didst thou know 'twas she?--O, she deceives me
Past thought.--What said she to you?--Get more tapers;
Raise all my kindred.--Are they married, think you?

RODERIGO.
Truly, I think they are.

BRABANTIO.
O heaven!--How got she out?--O treason of the blood!--
Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds
By what you see them act.--Are there not charms
By which the property of youth and maidhood
May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo,
Of some such thing?

RODERIGO.
Yes, sir, I have indeed.

BRABANTIO.
Call up my brother.--O, would you had had her!--
Some one way, some another.--Do you know
Where we may apprehend her and the Moor?

RODERIGO.
I think I can discover him, if you please
To get good guard, and go along with me.

BRABANTIO.
Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call;