#i iago

[epigraphstash]

I, Iago, Nicole Galland

[unntertitel]

This distressed me, for it reminded me of my father trying to arrange my life without regard for what would make me happy; my life was a business transaction and was to be handled efficiently. These people treated Emilia in the same manner, and so I felt protective toward her. She radiated pleasure and contentment during dinner, however; if that is indeed how her parents managed her life, she either did not mind it as I did, or hid her resentment much better than I could. I doubted it was the latter. She was simply more at peace in the world than I was.

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

I slowly strolled one side of the hall and was dazzled by the number of gentlemen and even ladies ogling me, to the point of ignoring the transvestite ballet taking place in the center of the room.

I was treated as if I were an exotic feathered bird, and Roderigo was being subtly congratulated for having tethered me.

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

“If I handle myself well, I might start a mania for swarthiness among Venetian dandies,” I said sardonically.

“I am not remotely entertaining,” I assured him. “But it sounds as if you are, so I will willingly get drunk with you. As long as you get a little sun on your face. I cannot have a serious conversation with a man so pale. Roderigo, my friend, you look like a prostitute.”

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

Father, having read it, did not look impressed or even interested. My stomach clenched a little. Somehow, I thought my transformation would have effected a transformation within him too. But he was the same cold man who did not know quite what to do with this extra son he’d spawned. “I am glad,” he said, “that you have redeemed the memory of your brother’s life. You were worthy of that task, from all that I have read in reports home from your instructors. Indeed, your gun-master seems to think you have some kind of genius.”

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

“From now on,” he informed us, resuming the quiet tone, “you will listen and attend me without my having to shout at you. It is a waste of my energy to shout. I am here to make you expend effort, not the other way around, is that clear? Say yes, Captain, if it is.” “Yes, Captain!” we all shouted in unison. “Don’t yell at me,” he said calmly.

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

About a dozen galleons sat moored in there; they looked like sparrows in an enormous puddle, so vast was the basin.

Nicole Galland, I, Iago

[unntertitel]

The state-sponsored Artillery School, I learned, had once been based in the campo of Santa Barbara, Barbara being the patron saint of things that explode.

Nicole Galland, I, Iago