Iago tells tales, tall tales. He fabricates a story – Desdemona’s adulterous liaison with Cassio – and then relies upon his own ingenuity and the propensity of those around him to be persuaded by the internal logic of his comedic narrative: ‘the knave is handsome, young, and hath all those requisites in him that folly and green minds look after; a pestilent complete knave, and the woman hath found him already’ (2.1.245–7). His few, well-placed innuendos are fully dramatized in Othello’s imagination, testifying to all the powers of suggestion as his words translate into action. And, although lago’s story-line is enacted in the play’s performance, Shakespeare images it throughout the play quite literally. That is to say, he stresses the literariness, the sheer wordiness of lago’s narrative. Cassio’s actions are thus ‘an index and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts’, a text which Othello’s ‘unbookish jealousy must conster’ (2.1.257–8; 4.1.101). Rapt, Othello looks on while lago ‘begins the story’, and is so mesmerized by the tale that he too rewrites his wife: ‘Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, / Made to write “whore” upon?’ (4.1.130–1; 4.2.71–2). As he moves through the play, Othello's ensign displays a sign of love which, as he declares himself, 'is indeed but sign' (1.1.157). Unlike the 'certaine signes' of the Spenserian text, however, which direct the reader toward 'matter of iust memory', Iago's sign is detached, aberrant, free-floating, mischievous, confounding — leaving one character after another to ask (as we might) 'What is the matter?'