green-eyed


 

The OED does not attest 'green-eyed' before Shakespeare, and a scan of the English Poetry  and Verse Drama databases does not turn up evidence for "green-eyed jealousy" as a 16th century stock phrase. So the green-eyed monster of jealousy may owe its proverbial status at least in part to a Shakespearean coinage. But regardless of how conventional the association may have been, it is worth pointing out that the two Shakespearean occurrences of 'green-eyed' link The Merchant and Venice and Othello at strategic moments and establish jealousy as an important component of the relationship of the two plays.

 

In a famous passage Iago "warns" Othello only to entrap him more fully:

 

 

 165   O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
 166   It is the green-ey'd monster which doth mock
 167   The meat it feeds on.  (Oth. 3.3.165-167)

 

When Bassanio chooses lead over gold and silver and concludes with the words "And here choose I. Joy be the consequence" Portia's aside can be read as a remarkably clairvoyant and accurate forecast of the stages of Othello's career, coupled with a prayer that Desdemona's fate not be hers. But Portia never prays without taking her own precautions, and her ability to retain circumspection at the point of ecstasy distinguishes her from her Venetian sister:    

 

 108   [Aside.] How all the other passions fleet to air,
 109   As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
 110   And shudd'ring fear, and green-eyed jealousy!
 111   O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
 112   In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
 113   I feel too much thy blessing; make it less.
                                                          (Mev. 3.2.108-113)

 

Structurally, this moment is not unlike Othello's arrival in Cyprus: the sailor/suitor encounters the beloved on the Island of Love.  And one may profitably compare Portia's prophetic prayer with Othello's very different and unconsciously ironic prophetic vision:

 

                                                   O my soul's joy!
185   If after every tempest come such calms,
186   May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
187   And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas
188   Olympus-high, and duck again as low
189   As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,
190   'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear
191   My soul hath her content so absolute
192   That not another comfort like to this
193   Succeeds in unknown fate. (Oth. 2.1.184-193)