Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare Part 18

"I ask only justice," said Alcibiades. "If you admit my army, I will inflict the penalty of your own laws upon any soldier who breaks them."

At that moment a soldier approached Alcibiades, and said, "My n.o.ble general, Timon is dead." He handed Alcibiades a sheet of wax, saying, "He is buried by the sea, on the beach, and over his grave is a stone with letters on it which I cannot read, and therefore I have impressed them on wax."

Alcibiades read from the sheet of wax this couplet--

"Here lie I, Timon, who, alive, all living men did hate.

Pa.s.s by and say your worst; but pa.s.s, and stay not here your gait."

"Dead, then, is n.o.ble Timon," said Alcibiades; and be entered Athens with an olive branch instead of a sword.

So it was one of Timon's friends who was generous in a greater matter than Timon's need; yet are the sorrow and rage of Timon remembered as a warning lest another ingrat.i.tude should arise to turn love into hate.

OTh.e.l.lO

Four hundred years ago there lived in Venice an ensign named Iago, who hated his general, Oth.e.l.lo, for not making him a lieutenant. Instead of Iago, who was strongly recommended, Oth.e.l.lo had chosen Michael Ca.s.sio, whose smooth tongue had helped him to win the heart of Desdemona. Iago had a friend called Roderigo, who supplied him with money and felt he could not be happy unless Desdemona was his wife.

Oth.e.l.lo was a Moor, but of so dark a complexion that his enemies called him a Blackamoor. His life had been hard and exciting. He had been vanquished in battle and sold into slavery; and he had been a great traveler and seen men whose shoulders were higher than their heads.

Brave as a lion, he had one great fault--jealousy. His love was a terrible selfishness. To love a woman meant with him to possess her as absolutely as he possessed something that did not live and think. The story of Oth.e.l.lo is a story of jealousy.

One night Iago told Roderigo that Oth.e.l.lo had carried off Desdemona without the knowledge of her father, Brabantio. He persuaded Roderigo to arouse Brabantio, and when that senator appeared Iago told him of Desdemona's elopement in the most unpleasant way. Though he was Oth.e.l.lo's officer, he termed him a thief and a Barbary horse.

Brabantio accused Oth.e.l.lo before the Duke of Venice of using sorcery to fascinate his daughter, but Oth.e.l.lo said that the only sorcery he used was his voice, which told Desdemona his adventures and hair-breadth escapes. Desdemona was led into the council-chamber, and she explained how she could love Oth.e.l.lo despite his almost black face by saying, "I saw Oth.e.l.lo's visage in his mind."

As Oth.e.l.lo had married Desdemona, and she was glad to be his wife, there was no more to be said against him, especially as the Duke wished him to go to Cyprus to defend it against the Turks. Oth.e.l.lo was quite ready to go, and Desdemona, who pleaded to go with him, was permitted to join him at Cyprus.

Oth.e.l.lo's feelings on landing in this island were intensely joyful. "Oh, my sweet," he said to Desdemona, who arrived with Iago, his wife, and Roderigo before him, "I hardly know what I say to you. I am in love with my own happiness."

News coming presently that the Turkish fleet was out of action, he proclaimed a festival in Cyprus from five to eleven at night.

Ca.s.sio was on duty in the Castle where Oth.e.l.lo ruled Cyprus, so Iago decided to make the lieutenant drink too much. He had some difficulty, as Ca.s.sio knew that wine soon went to his head, but servants brought wine into the room where Ca.s.sio was, and Iago sang a drinking song, and so Ca.s.sio lifted a gla.s.s too often to the health of the general.

When Ca.s.sio was inclined to be quarrelsome, Iago told Roderigo to say something unpleasant to him. Ca.s.sio cudgeled Roderigo, who ran into the presence of Montano, the ex-governor. Montano civilly interceded for Roderigo, but received so rude an answer from Ca.s.sio that he said, "Come, come, you're drunk!" Ca.s.sio then wounded him, and Iago sent Roderigo out to scare the town with a cry of mutiny.

The uproar aroused Oth.e.l.lo, who, on learning its cause, said, "Ca.s.sio, I love thee, but never more be officer of mine."

On Ca.s.sio and Iago being alone together, the disgraced man moaned about his reputation. Iago said reputation and humbug were the same thing.

"O G.o.d," exclaimed Ca.s.sio, without heeding him, "that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!"

Iago advised him to beg Desdemona to ask Oth.e.l.lo to pardon him. Ca.s.sio was pleased with the advice, and next morning made his request to Desdemona in the garden of the castle. She was kindness itself, and said, "Be merry, Ca.s.sio, for I would rather die than forsake your cause."

Ca.s.sio at that moment saw Oth.e.l.lo advancing with Iago, and retired hurriedly.

Iago said, "I don't like that."

"What did you say?" asked Oth.e.l.lo, who felt that he had meant something unpleasant, but Iago pretended he had said nothing. "Was not that Ca.s.sio who went from my wife?" asked Oth.e.l.lo, and Iago, who knew that it was Ca.s.sio and why it was Ca.s.sio, said, "I cannot think it was Ca.s.sio who stole away in that guilty manner."

Desdemona told Oth.e.l.lo that it was grief and humility which made Ca.s.sio retreat at his approach. She reminded him how Ca.s.sio had taken his part when she was still heart-free, and found fault with her Moorish lover.

Oth.e.l.lo was melted, and said, "I will deny thee nothing," but Desdemona told him that what she asked was as much for his good as dining.

Desdemona left the garden, and Iago asked if it was really true that Ca.s.sio had known Desdemona before her marriage.

"Yes," said Oth.e.l.lo.

"Indeed," said Iago, as though something that had mystified him was now very clear.

"Is he not honest?" demanded Oth.e.l.lo, and Iago repeated the adjective inquiringly, as though he were afraid to say "No."

"What do you mean?" insisted Oth.e.l.lo.

To this Iago would only say the flat opposite of what he said to Ca.s.sio.

He had told Ca.s.sio that reputation was humbug. To Oth.e.l.lo he said, "Who steals my purse steals trash, but he who filches from me my good name ruins me."

At this Oth.e.l.lo almost leapt into the air, and Iago was so confident of his jealousy that he ventured to warn him against it. Yes, it was no other than Iago who called jealousy "the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Iago having given jealousy one blow, proceeded to feed it with the remark that Desdemona deceived her father when she eloped with Oth.e.l.lo.

"If she deceived him, why not you?" was his meaning.

Presently Desdemona re-entered to tell Oth.e.l.lo that dinner was ready.

She saw that he was ill at ease. He explained it by a pain in his forehead. Desdemona then produced a handkerchief, which Oth.e.l.lo had given her. A prophetess, two hundred years old, had made this handkerchief from the silk of sacred silkworms, dyed it in a liquid prepared from the hearts of maidens, and embroidered it with strawberries. Gentle Desdemona thought of it simply as a cool, soft thing for a throbbing brow; she knew of no spell upon it that would work destruction for her who lost it. "Let me tie it round your head," she said to Oth.e.l.lo; "you will be well in an hour." But Oth.e.l.lo pettishly said it was too small, and let it fall. Desdemona and he then went indoors to dinner, and Emilia picked up the handkerchief which Iago had often asked her to steal.

She was looking at it when Iago came in. After a few words about it he s.n.a.t.c.hed it from her, and bade her leave him.

In the garden he was joined by Oth.e.l.lo, who seemed hungry for the worst lies he could offer. He therefore told Oth.e.l.lo that he had seen Ca.s.sio wipe his mouth with a handkerchief, which, because it was spotted with strawberries, he guessed to be one that Oth.e.l.lo had given his wife.

The unhappy Moor went mad with fury, and Iago bade the heavens witness that he devoted his hand and heart and brain to Oth.e.l.lo's service. "I accept your love," said Oth.e.l.lo. "Within three days let me hear that Ca.s.sio is dead."

Iago's next step was to leave Desdemona's handkerchief in Ca.s.sio's room.

Ca.s.sio saw it, and knew it was not his, but he liked the strawberry pattern on it, and he gave it to his sweetheart Bianca and asked her to copy it for him.

Iago's next move was to induce Oth.e.l.lo, who had been bullying Desdemona about the handkerchief, to play the eavesdropper to a conversation between Ca.s.sio and himself. His intention was to talk about Ca.s.sio's sweetheart, and allow Oth.e.l.lo to suppose that the lady spoken of was Desdemona.

"How are you, lieutenant?" asked Iago when Ca.s.sio appeared.

"The worse for being called what I am not," replied Ca.s.sio, gloomily.

"Keep on reminding Desdemona, and you'll soon be restored," said Iago, adding, in a tone too low for Oth.e.l.lo to hear, "If Bianca could set the matter right, how quickly it would mend!"

"Alas! poor rogue," said Ca.s.sio, "I really think she loves me," and like the talkative c.o.xcomb he was, Ca.s.sio was led on to boast of Bianca's fondness for him, while Oth.e.l.lo imagined, with choked rage, that he prattled of Desdemona, and thought, "I see your nose, Ca.s.sio, but not the dog I shall throw it to."

Oth.e.l.lo was still spying when Bianca entered, boiling over with the idea that Ca.s.sio, whom she considered her property, had asked her to copy the embroidery on the handkerchief of a new sweetheart. She tossed him the handkerchief with scornful words, and Ca.s.sio departed with her.

Oth.e.l.lo had seen Bianca, who was in station lower, in beauty and speech inferior far, to Desdemona and he began in spite of himself to praise his wife to the villain before him. He praised her skill with the needle, her voice that could "sing the savageness out of a bear," her wit, her sweetness, the fairness of her skin. Every time he praised her Iago said something that made him remember his anger and utter it foully, and yet he must needs praise her, and say, "The pity of it, Iago! O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!"