1 The affair cries haste, And speed must answer it.
2 Thou hast not half that power to do me harm As I have to be hurt.
3 Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: She has deceiv'd her father, and may thee.
4 Nay, lay thee down and roar; For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent That e'er did lift up eye.
5 Thou hast taken against me a most just exception, but yet I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.
6 Tush, never tell me, I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse, As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
7 Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms, Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals That weakens motion.'
8 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.
9 But still the house affairs would draw her thence, Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse; which I observing, Took once a pliant hour, and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not intentively.