by William Shakespeare
, believed to have been written in approximately 1603, and based on the Italian short story "Un Capitano Moro" ("A Moorish Captain") by Cinthio, a disciple of Boccaccio, first published in 1565. The work revolves around four central characters: Othello
, a Moorish
general in the Venetian army; his wife Desdemona
; his lieutenant, Cassio
; and his trusted ensign
Iago
.
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,But seeming so, for my peculiar end:For when my outward action doth demonstrateThe native act and figure of my heartIn compliment extern, 'tis not long afterBut I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at: I am not what I am.
Even now, now, very now, an old black ramIs tupping your white ewe.
Your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
My story being done,She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful.
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd,And I lov'd her that she did pity them.
The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:She has deceived her father, and may thee.
Thus do I ever make my fool my purse.
I hate the Moor;And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheetsHe has done my office: I know not if 't be true;But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, will do as if for surety.