1 You are the lord of duty, I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband.
2 These letters give, Iago, to the pilot, And by him do my duties to the senate.
3 Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end.
4 Though I am bound to every act of duty, I am not bound to that all slaves are free to.
5 My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty: To you I am bound for life and education.
6 Signior Montano, Your trusty and most valiant servitor, With his free duty recommends you thus, And prays you to believe him.
7 And so much duty as my mother show'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.
8 I am glad of it, for now I shall have reason To show the love and duty that I bear you With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, Receive it from me.
9 But I do think it is their husbands' faults If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties, And pour our treasures into foreign laps; Or else break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us.
10 Others there are Who, trimm'd in forms, and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, And throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them, and when they have lin'd their coats, Do themselves homage.