him, and is at once destroyed.

3

In order to see how this tragedy arises let us now look more closely
into Iago's inner man. We find here, in the first place, as has been
implied in part, very remarkable powers both of intellect and of will.
Iago's insight, within certain limits, into human nature; his ingenuity
and address in working upon it; his quickness and versatility in dealing
with sudden difficulties and unforeseen opportunities, have probably no
parallel among dramatic characters. Equally remarkable is his strength
of will. Not Socrates himself, not the ideal sage of the Stoics, was
more lord of himself than Iago appears to be. It is not merely that he
never betrays his true nature; he seems to be master of _all_ the
motions that might affect his will. In the most dangerous moments of his
plot, when the least slip or accident would be fatal, he never shows a
trace of nervousness. When Othello takes him by the throat he merely
shifts his part with his usual instantaneous adroitness. When he is
attacked and wounded at the end he is perfectly unmoved. As Mr.
Swinburne says, you cannot believe for a moment that the pain of torture
will ever open Iago's lips. He is equally unassailable by the
temptations of indolence or of sensuality. It is difficult to imagine
him inactive; and though he has an obscene mind, and doubtless took his
pleasures when and how he chose, he certainly took them by choice and
not from weakness, and if pleasure interfered with his purposes the
holiest of ascetics would not put it more resolutely by. 'What should I
do?' Roderigo whimpers to him; 'I confess it is my shame to be so fond;
but it is not in my virtue to amend it.' He answers: 'Virtue! a fig!
'tis in ourselves that we are thus and thus. It all depends on our will.
Love is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come,
be a man.... Ere I would say I would drown myself for the love of a
guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon.' Forget for a
moment that love is for Iago the appetite of a baboon; forget that he is
as little assailable by pity as by fear or pleasure; and you will
acknowledge that this lordship of the will, which is his practice as
well as his doctrine, is great, almost sublime. Indeed, in intellect
(always within certain limits) and in will (considered as a mere power,
and without regard to its objects) Iago _is_ great.

To what end does he use these great powers? His creed--for he is n