A joke! ‘Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus,” I explained, hoping my encouraging words would spark up hope in him. “Our bodies are our gardens, to which our will are gardeners.” I gestured to the vibrant floral beds demarcating the town square, giving Roderigo something concrete to focus on besides the unattainability of the general’s wife. “So that if we plant nettles or sow lettuce, why the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most prepost’rous conclusions. But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal strings, our unbitted lust,” I finish, carefully weighing my cunning and eloquently strung-together words to my advantage. He must believe it is not his inherent virtues but his reason, over which he has direction and power, that determine the course of his and Desdemona’s love story. The poor lad has no idea what’s to come, and an honest man he is. But, I deserve the title of Othello’s second in command, and all that I do to receive it is secondary to my honest intentions. Roderigo and I have both been wronged -- the moor is not worthy of such a fair beauty, and I am not worthy of an ancient’s status. I am doing us both a …show more content…
I have professed me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving cables of perdurable toughness.” I first and foremost needed to establish an unwavering, mutual trust between the both of us. “I could never better stead thee than now. Put money in your pockets. Follow the wars, disguise yourself. Put money in your pockets. It cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her love to the Moor - put money in your pockets - nor he is to love her. It was a violent commencement in her, and you will see a similar separation - put money in your pockets. These Moors are changeable in their wills; the women to whom they are once wholly attracted to can become unsatisfying to them in a moment’s notice. A weak vow between the barbaric moor between the and the ladylike Venetian will not be too hard for my wits, or even the devil, and you shalt enjoy her. The best revenge on the moor is your own wealth and happiness.” As I conveyed my revenge plot to Roderigo, his eyes wandered from the water, now dark as the last traces of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, to meet my gaze. His look of desperation as he stood silent in the council chamber had become one of