Iago’s broken eyebrow rose and fell like the wings of a hunting bird flaring to land. “Remind me of what it was that you were to bring to our venture?”

Bassanio caught his head, weighted with woe, in his hands. “Some rich old man will have Portia and I shall drown myself at their wedding.”

Iago rose and moved behind Bassanio, took the youth by the shoulders, and lifted him from his chair with a hearty shake. “Thou silly gentleman!”

Bassanio, now firmly in the grasp of Iago, looked to his friend Antonio. “Is it silliness to live when living is torment?”

“What love is not torment when a man knows not how to love himself? Talk not of drowning, but attaining your heart’s desire by action: Put money in thy purse.”

“I know it’s folly to be so fond of her, knowing her as little as I do, but she is radiant, and I am helpless.”

“And so, like helpless kittens and blind puppies, you will drown yourself? Nay, I say! Put money in thy purse. Give in to your passions and they will lead you to the most preposterous conclusions—passions make a fool of reason. Rather let reason find a path to passion: Put money in thy purse.”

“But even the chance—”

“Make money, young gentleman. Sell your lands, your treasures, call in your debtors, take your lady, your fortune, your future, your fate—for fate favors the truest love, surely, when it is pursued with reason. Put money in thy purse.”

“But I have no treasure, no lands.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Really?” Iago, his sails suddenly gone slack, glared at Antonio, who nodded sadly.

Antonio put his arm around Bassanio’s shoulders and walked him out of Iago’s stiff embrace. “But you have friends, and so they shall come to your aid. My ventures at sea are worth more than twice the bride price. Go, Bassanio, into the Rialto, and see what my good name and credit will provide. I will see you well furnished to fling woo at the fair Portia.”

“But I already owe you more than I can repay—”

“Your happiness, loyalty, and love will be my payment.”

“Yes,” said Iago, now steering the youth out of Antonio’s arms and hurrying him to the door. “Have I not said, put Antonio’s money in thy purse? Now go, find fortune in the Rialto, and send Rodrigo back, we would have words with him.”

Bassanio hurried out the door, then turned. “Oh, Signor Iago, do not forget your daggers at Belmont. Portia holds them for you.”

“Go now, put money in thy purse,” said Iago, closing the door. He turned to Antonio. “My daggers?”

“Portia found them among Brabantio’s things and asked me about them. I would have claimed them, but as only a soldier may carry weapons openly, I told her they were yours.”