Notare come la macchina da presa stringe su Iago mentre si appresta a pronunciare: "I am not..."
SCENE I. Venice. A street.
Enter RODERIGO and IAGORODERIGO
I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
I know my price, I am worth no worse a place.
he one Michel Cassio, a Florentine,
must his lietenant be
And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof
And I — God bless the mark! — his Moorship's ancient.
By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,
I would not follow him then.
O, sir, content you;
I follow him to serve my turn upon him.
We cannot all be masters, nor all masters
Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark
Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,
But seeming so, for my peculiar end:
I am not what I am.
What a full fortune does the thick-lips owe
If he can carry't thus!
Call up her father