“Ere I would say I would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I would change my humanity with a baboon.
RODERIGO. What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so fond, but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
IAGO. Virtue! a fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.
So that if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.”