Iago
...nce. He wants 'a living reason' that Desdemona is disloyal. This means something recent, something fleshy, something involving witnessing. Thus, my story telling powers are stimulated. Iago has the ability to adapt his tone and style to suit any occasion. When I reach Iago’s lament “I do not like the office…..” (III.410>) I show reluctance to divulge these thoughts: I pace, wring my hands and drag the words out slightly so that by seeming honest, Iago can manoeuvre himself into a position where he can thoroughly poison Othello’s mind. In ll.411-27, I concoct a dramatic vision of concupiscent indulgence between consenting ravenous lovers. * In a decadent way, I role-play Cassio, as he dreams, and I also become Desdemona as Cassio copulates with her. I have no trouble letting my fevered imagination to run away with me. As Iago, I may even, with my eyes closed, try to rub up against Othello, and even entwine myself with him to extend 'the evidence' to his tactile experience. I am enjoying 'wife for wife' and cuckolding another 'cuckold'. (In some productions, Iago tells Othello about his (Iago’s) fantasies about Desdemona while substituting Cassio in Iago’s place. In others, Iago is portrayed as a homosexual – the object of his desire is Othello, not Desdemona, so he (Iago) acts out the story between Cassio and Desdemona with himself as Cassio and Othello as Desdemona. This exaggerated enactment enables me to sharpen the motive for Desdemona's unhappiness by inventing such devastating words as 'Cursèd fate that gave thee to the Moor.' This further plays on Othello's central fear of inadequacy. My ploy has exactly the desired effect. Although, I must say I am shocked by the ferocity of Othello's reaction, 'I'll tear her all to pieces.' This is chilling, terrifying, and exciting all at the same time. It is ironic that I have to calm him down a little. I, smiling secretly behind my words, remind him, '... yet we see nothing done,/ She may be honest yet.' It is now that I decide to play my trump card. The handkerchief; I see its perfect use. Othello's first love gift, a symbol of his devotion, and a symbol of their mutual chaste love for each other, can be his undoing. And I have it in my pocket, to play with as I will. Evil is the progenitor of such exquisite improvisation. This is the tangible, certain, ocular way ahead. All I need to do is generate the logic of its possession by Cassio to the inevitable conclusion that he also possesses Desdemona, body and soul. There mere insinuating mention of the detail of the strawberries casts the most terrible shadow across his eyes. He becomes overwhelmed in his passion for revenge. Othello has reached conclusions without any evidence but the myths of 'stor...