Othello the Legatus Act 4 Scene 2 part 3

Act Four Scene 2 Part 3

The dinner with Lodovico was a formal and quiet one. Soon it was over and the guests all leave. Othello played the role of his rank and lover well. He was courteous and caring, while Desdemona was trying very hard to be herself. Soon they were on the street.

"My love, please go back to the tavern." Othello told her.

"Yes", she replied.

"Follow her and then when she is there, leave her be. I would be along soon." Othello told Emilia. The ladies did as they were told, and soon they were back there in the room.

"Emilia,. Please bring me my gown." Desdemona stepped out of her dining gown. Emilia pass her one, but she asked for the one she had named the 'union one'; the flimsy one that Othello had made some tear on it. She wore it and then decided that she would put on something else. She selected another one and put it on.

"I wanted it for our return trip. I guess its time now." Desdemona slipped into the one. Emilia was showed her the special bed covers. It was the cover she bought for their union night, but the Castra did not have much of the bedding to offer. She had kept it away.

"No, keep that away. The bedding here is not suitable." Desdemona replied. And then she paused before continuing. "If I die,wrapped me in that."

"Shed the thought, my Lady. You do not need to worry about death." Emilia told her. She then change the subject. "Lodovico, your relative looked young but not that handsome."

"Sail your thoughts away, Emilia." Desdemona said. "He is my uncle. And I got need another aunt. Do you know tonight, I was thinking of a past servant who taught me the song. I used to hear it nightly and tonight I feel like singing it."

Desdemona started on it.

The pour soul sat singing by the sycamore tree,

Sing all a green willow, she had her hand on her breast and her head on her knee,

The fresh streams ran by her, and murmured her moans,

Sing willow, willow, willow

Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones,

Sing willow, willow, willow

Lay by these, willow, willow. Prithee, hie thee, he'll come anon

Sing a green willow must be my garland.

Nobody blame him, his scorn i approve

No, that's not how it goes...."

"Who's at the door?" Desdemona stopped singing. She looked to the door.

"No one. Its probably the wind." Emilia replied. Desdemona continued her singing.

I called my love false love but what said he then?

Sing willow, willow, willow

If I court more men and you couch them all.

So, get thee gone, good. Mine eyes do itch

Doth that bode weeping?

"Oh, it means nothing." Emilia did not understand the song.

"Emilia, please tell me. You being a person more on the street than me. Do women cheat, like some men? They would lay with the others." Desdemona asked.

"Yes, they are. Some of them are willing to go all the way." Emilia told her. "It could be day or night. Or one off or more, they care not."

"But not me. I cannot see myself doing it. Night or day." Emilia continued on. She then correct herself. "I may do it if the need comes to that. Who wouldn't? If my lover was to be an Emperor, I would fuck the whole Senate. And then have them fed to the lions later. That is life sad points. But its sacrifices."

"Its a foolish move. I do not believe you." Desdemona replied.

"No, its not a foolish move. Its the fact of life. Women had been known to do this for their lovers; they give their dignity for their love." Emilia explained. "We are the Queen to cover their mistakes or take out their foes. We are the warriors; the unsung heroes. All we asked is that we be received back with open arms and a loving heart, and not scorn on for our act. Remember this well, my Lady; Our body may be used but our heart remains true."

"Emilia, you scared me. I have not heard of his before." Desdemona replied. 

"Grow up, my Lady. This is the real world. We are the servants; they used us for their needs. We are their mother, mistress and lover. We mothered them when they need to be comforted, we are their lustful woman when they feel they needed us for their lust. And worse, we are supposed to be their lover when displayed on the podium of their friends. But do they know us well? They don't. We are the menial ones that get ignored on our needs. We like them also want the father, the master and the loving. But they think if they are those, they would get all nasty and brand us as silly, stupid or worse, un-compatible. They would discard us like trash."

"They would then find another to replace us. Are we so predictable? Blind? Or meant to be their servants?"

"I am speechless, Emilia. I never had thought of that." Desdemona displayed an outlook of innocence.

"My Lady, if I may be direct. Tell me in your honest words, did you not love one other before you met Othello?" Emilia asked.

"I...... I have but what had that to do with my Othello?" Desdemona asked back.

"Of whom had taken your virtue? Was it the previous lover or was it Othello? Your pure blood that flow once out and never would restraint you back."

"I am ...can't answer that. Its too personal." Desdemona replied.

"Of which I already knew the reply. Othello was not your first but did he asked? Or was you his first? Did you asked? You did not. As you know that its too...personal." Emilia told her. "But when it happened then, was it not personal for you then when you gave it up."

"I never thought of it." Desdemona looked away. She could not hide the expression on her face, as to the few lovers she had. Of which only two had gone into her., with one taking breaking her virtue, and the other keeping virtue with her for himself.

"Thing on that, my Lady. You placed yourself there as being the virtue one., but yet you have sacrificed for the moment of your so called love. But once that lover of yours leave, you just moved on and find another. You kept in your mind that you are still 'virtue' in you for him. Just like those women I mentioned. Like you and me, we are not strong like them; physically, but inside us, we hold on strong to our virtue love. We would do anything for that love. Even to released our body for one other, but when we are back with our love, its back it original pristine form of pure virtue love. Such are the sacrifice of us as a woman."

"I never thought of that." Desdemona looked away. "I meant...."

"What you meant, means nothing to me. Othello is your lover now. Keep to him." With that Emilia left the Desdemona to her woes as a woman. She closed the door on Desdemona and stood there. She thought of herself, she was what she had said. She had loved one other, and gave it all to him, but his change of outlook scared her off. She ran for the arms of another, but found herself thrown into the pits of Hell. She had suffered long and hard, but inside her, she kept her virtue of love to the one that she could not have anymore.

Or maybe so, as his union could come to an end. When it had ended, she would be there. After all, she was a free lady now. My body tainted, but not my heart.

"Its still yours, Othello." Emilia muttered to herself.