The Tragedy of Othello: The Moor of Venice

Iago:
Oh beware, my lord, of jealousy. It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.

[first lines]

Narrator:
There was once in Venice a moor, Othello, who for his merits is the affairs of war was held in great esteem. It happened that he fell in love with a young and noble lady called Desdemona, who drawn by his virtue became equally enamoured of Othello...

[last lines]

Othello:
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak of one who loved not wisely but too well, of one not easily jealous but, being wrought, perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, like the base Indian's, threw a pearl away richer than all his tribe. Set you down this.