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HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY
FROM
THE BEQUEST OF
EVERT JANSEN WERDELE
12:1.
PRINTED BY
JOHN EDWARD TAYLOR, LITTLE QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.


venge is prompted solely by the resistance of Des-
demona's virtue to his licentious arts, and is di-
rected against her alone. She is his victim. But
in the Tragedy, the motives of Iago's hatred of
Othello and Cassio are of a different nature, and
his vengeance sweeping, universal, black, and ter-
rible: he uses every one in turn as a tool to effect
his purpose, and all are in turn his victims; his
is a pure lust of villainy and revenge, for which, it
is true, the motives appear at first inadequate,-
perhaps unnatural, as some critics have remarked ;
but a little consideration surely removes this ob-
jection. Had there been sufficient cause, however
atrocious, for Iago to have been actuated by per-
sonal revenge, his guilt would have been simply
the excess of wicked and unbridled passion; but
by affixing to his conduct less natural motives, its
malignity is rendered in proportion fiendlike, pas-
sionless, and instinct with guilt in its most unmixed
form of “motiveless malignity.” At the same
time, Iago’s revenge is not so entirely “inadequate
and vague” as it has been represented. In the
opening scene of the Play we see one chief cause
of his hatred both of the Moor and Cassio; but he
afterwards avows other motives, of jealousy, ex-
pressed in the strongest and plainest language,
“the thought whereof,” he says-
“Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards,
And nothing can or shall content my soul,


19
him. He therefore sought in various ways, and
with secret guile, to betray his passion to the lady.
But she, whose every wish was centred in the Moor,
had no thought for this Ensign more than for any
other man; and all the means he tried to gain her
love, had no more effect than if he had not tried
them. But the Ensign imagined that the cause
of his ill success was that Disdemona loved the
Captain of the troop; and he pondered how to
remove him from her sight. The love which he
had borne the lady now changed into the bitterest
hate; and, having failed in his purposes, he devoted
all his thoughts to plot the death of the Captain of
the troop, and to divert the affection of the Moor
from Disdemona. After revolving in his mind va-
rious schemes, all alike wicked, he at length re-
solved to accuse her of unfaithfulness to her hus-
band, and to represent the Captain as her para-
mour. But knowing the singular love the Moor
bore to Disdemona, and the friendship which he
had for the Captain, he was well aware that, unless
he practised an artful fraud upon the Moor, it were
impossible to make him give ear to either accusa-
tion: wherefore he resolved to wait, until time and
circumstance should open a path for him to engage
in his foul project.
Not long afterwards, it happened that the Cap-
tain, having drawn his sword upon a soldier of the
guard, and struck him, the Moor deprived him of


2)
The lady, with all gentleness and humility, re-
plied, “Be not angered, my dear lord; I have no
other cause to bid me speak, than sorrow that I
see you lose so dear a friend as, by your own
words, this Captain has been to you: nor has he
done so grave a fault, that you should bear him so
much enmity. Nay, but you Moors are of so hot
a nature, that every little trifle moves you to anger
and revenge.”
Still more enraged at these words, the Moor re-
plied, “I could bring proofs--by heaven it mocks
belief! but for the wrongs I have endured, re-
venge must satisfy my wrath.”
Disdemona, in astonishment and fright, seeing
her husband's anger kindled against her, so con-
trary to his wont, said humbly and with timid-
ness, “None save a good intent has led me thus
to speak with you, my lord; but to give cause no
longer for offence, I'll never speak a word more on
the subject."
The Moor, observing the earnestness with which
his wife again, pleaded for the Captain, began to
guess the meaning of the Ensign's words; and in
deep melancholy he went to seek that villain, and
induce him to speak more openly of what he knew.
Then the Ensign, who was bent upon injuring the
unhappy lady, after feigning at first great reluc-
tance to say aught that might displease the Moor,
at length pretended to yield to his entreaties, and


30
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to him. But the Ensign at first refused to under-
take so dangerous a task, the Captain being a man
of equal skill and courage; until at length, after
much entreating, and being richly paid, the Moor
prevailed on him to promise to attempt the deed.
Having formed this resolution, the Ensign, go-
ing out one dark night, sword in hand, met the
Captain, on his way to visit a courtesan, and struck
him a blow on his right thigh, which cut off his
leg, and felled him to the earth. Then the Ensign
was on the point of putting an end to his life, when
the Captain, who was a courageous man, and used
to the sight of blood and death, drew his sword,
and, wounded as he was, kept on his defence, ex-
claiming with a loud voice, “I'm murdered* !”
Thereupon the Ensign, hearing the people come
running up, with some of the soldiers who were
lodged thereabouts, took to his heels, to escape
being caught; then turning about again, he joined
the crowd, pretending to have been attracted by
the noise. And when he saw the Captain's leg
cut off, he judged that, if not already dead, the
blow must at all events end his life; and whilst in
* See the remarks in my introduction to the Story. The maim-
ing is the same in the Tragedy :-“Iago cuts Cassio behind in the
leg,” but does not lop off the limb. It would have been rather
awkward and unbefitting for Cassio to have been brought on to
the stage (as the Captain in the story) stumping about with a
wooden leg.


31
of Venice, he would have slain him openly. But
being unable to do this with safety, he deprived
him of his rank, and would not allow him to re-
main in his Company; whereat such an enmity
arose between the two, that no greater or more
deadly can be imagined.
The Ensign, that wickedest of all bad men, now
turned his thoughts to injuring the Moor; and
seeking out the Captain, whose wound was by this
time healed, and who went about with a wooden
leg, in place of the one that had been cut off, he
said to him, “ 'Tis time you should be avenged for
your lost limb; and if you will come with me to
Venice, I'll tell you who the malefactor is, whom
I dare not mention to you here, for many reasons,
and I will bring you proofs.”
The Captain of the troop, whose anger returned
fiercely, but without knowing why, thanked the
Ensign, and went with him to Venice. On'arri-
ving there, the Ensign told him that it was the
Moor who had cut off his leg, on account of the
suspicion he had formed of Disdemona's conduct
with him; and for that reason he had slain her,
and then spread the report that the ceiling had
fallen and killed her. Upon hearing which, the
Captain accused the Moor to the Signoria, both
of having cut off his leg and killed his wife, and
called the Ensign to witness the truth of what he
said. The Ensign declared both charges to be