Act 3, scene 3 of Othello, where Iago turns the title character from a happy man who loves his wife into a maniac with no thought but murder, is a technical tour de force. Its treatment of time has been written about and studied many times. Its psychological content, the way that a mind can be led a great distance with just a slight suggestion, is remarkable and unfortunately, very true-to-life. Today I'd like to look at one segment just for the power of its poetry. At this point, Iago's work is almost done: Othello is convinced his wife is unfaithful, and he wants revenge. Iago then pretends that he's trying to dissuade him from violence:

IAGO

Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.

OTHELLO

Never, Iago: Like to the Pontic sea,

Whose icy current and compulsive course

Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on

To the Propontic and the Hellespont,

Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,

Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,

Till that a capable and wide revenge

Swallow them up.

What fierce and frightening power this metaphor contains. It brings to mind Alfred Whitehead's axiom that "language should embody what it indicates". (More on this scene tomorrow.)