The Vagabond

Iago: And nothing can or shall content my soul

Till I am even'd with him wife for wife;

Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor

At least into a jealousy so strong

That judgment cannot cure. --Othello, II; I.

A queer thing, jealousy, Vag mused. It sits behind the scenes like old Stockmar, doing its work silently. Rarely does anyone see it operate; even those whom it tears apart are sometimes not conscious of it until too late. Vaguely, Vag remembered reading of termites who burrow unseen within a beautiful and apparently strong house; then, suddenly, the house collapses. It was something like that with people. Jealousy, like a poison--perhaps like a cancer; but worse, since a cancer, if discovered early, can be cured--constantly, subtly tries to gain acceptance in the mind. Once the entering wedge is injected, every incident, every word, every expression can be twisted to the support of a pre-determined conclusion.

Is there a remedy? Often, Vag realized, the "green-eyed monster" had attacked him, once with disastrous results. He smiled as he recalled that tragic childhood romance. What could be done in the future? Suddenly Vag remembered that the world's greatest dramatist had had something to say on the subject. Something world famous, in fact; something probably never equalled in the realm of dramatic expression. Vag decided to hear Professor Theodore J. Spencer at 11 o'clock today in Harvard 5, on "Othello, Moor of Venice."