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;
I may command at most. — Get weapons, ho!
And raise some special officers of night. —
On, good Roderigo: — I'll deserve your pains.
[Exeunt.]
