The native act and figure of my heart
In complement extern, 'tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
For daws to peck 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.