If this Othello is not
easily jealous then no man is prone to doubt and quick to turn from love
to loathing.
The truth of the matter is that in the beginning of the play Othello is
a marionette fairly well shaped and exceedingly picturesque; but as soon
as jealousy is touched upon, the mask is thrown aside; Othello, the
self-contained captain, disappears, the poet takes his place and at once
shows himself to be the aptest subject for the green fever. The emotions
then put into Othello's mouth are intensely realized; his jealousy is
indeed Shakespeare's own confession, and it would be impossible to find
in all literature pages of more sincere and terrible self-revealing.
Shakespeare is not more at home in showing us the passion of Romeo and
Juliet or the irresolution of Richard II. or the scepticism of Hamlet
than in depicting the growth and paroxysms of jealousy; his overpowering
sensuality, the sensuality of Romeo and of Orsino, has sounded every
note of love's mortal sickness:
"
Oth. I had been happy if the general camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known.
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