by Paula Vogel
(Desdemona perfects her synchronized moans, building to a crescendo, at which point she breaks into peals of laughter.)
DESDEMONA: It’s smashing!—Mealy—you really must try it!
23.
As before.
BIANCA: Aw want you t’take this in th’ right way now—but if you weren’t born a lady, you’d a been a bleedin’ good blowzabella. One o’ the best. An’—well, no matter what fate holds, there’s always room fer you in me shop.
(Bashful) Aw means it, too—
EMILIA: Holy Mother, if anyone had so much as whispered in Venice that you’d be makin’ a bonnie whore, there’d be a blood duel to settle in the streets!
BIANCA: Aw’m payin’ yer lady me respecks as one pro-fessional t’anofer. You…you got as much notion of me craft as a donkey has of Sunday.
EMILIA: Why, thank you—at least someone has noted me merit.
DESDEMONA (Gently): I’m very complimented, Bianca…and I really did enjoy Tuesday night—but I don’t think I’d better risk covering for you again—
BIANCA: You’re…you’re not brimmin’ fer me anymore?
DESDEMONA: No—I don’t think I’d better.
EMILIA (To herself): Heigh-ho! On to the next—
BIANCA (Trembling): But…but we c’n still be mates, wot?
DESDEMONA: Of course we can! I want that very much. I never tire of hearing your stories. They’re so lively, so very funny. What else have I got for amusement’s sake.
(Bianca is disturbed. Emilia smiles)
But you haven’t told me yet about your evening off with Cassio last Tuesday…did you enjoy yourself?
BIANCA: You don’t want to ’ear about it none, it’s not anyfing amusing—
DESDEMONA: Now, just tell me all about it, Bianca; you can tell me your secrets, too. Woman to woman. What did you two do?
BIANCA (Shyly): We just talked.
EMILIA (Snorting): All night?
BIANCA: Yes! ’E’s differnt, you know. ’E’s a gen’l’man, ’e is. An’ ’e makes the rest o’ the blokes round ’ere look like the ninny-hammers they are—
EMILIA: Oh, he’s diff’rent, all right. You’d think after all week of tomfoolin’ with the like of hicks, you’d have more sense than to go prancin’ about with some Nancy town stallion.
BIANCA: Wot! Nancy! Nancy, is it? Who’re you callin’ “Nancy”?
DESDEMONA: Now, Mealy, don’t tease her—
EMILIA: The way I see it, it’s no acc-i-dent for himself to be an army man—
BIANCA: Aw tell you wot, m’lord Cassio ’twill make a smug more obligin’ in bed than the one you’ve got—
DESDEMONA (Warningly): Ladies, ladies—
EMILIA: Well, you’ll never find out what it is to be havin’ the like of a proper husband in the bed.
BIANCA: Mayhap Aw will, too. Aw’m ready to let my way of life go fer wash the second ’e arsks me.
DESDEMONA: What!
BIANCA: Aw’m giving ’alfe me brass each week to the priest, Father Donahue, so’s ’e c’n pray fer me sins an’ t’ gi’ me apsolution. Aw’m ready t’ say yes whenever ’e arsks me an’—an’ Aw c’n go to th’ altar as unstained as you were on yer weddin’ night.
EMILIA (Seeing Bianca in a new light): So, you’re after goin’ to the priest reg-ular?
(Impressed) That’s a lot of money.
BIANCA: Bleedin’ right.
DESDEMONA: (Crestfallen): Oh, Bianca—oh, surely you’re…you’re not the type that wants to get married?
(Depressed, Desdemona goes and pours herself another mug of wine.)
BIANCA: Wot’s wrong wif that? Aw’m still young, an’ Aw’ve got a tidy sum all saved up fer a dowry. An’ m’lord Cassio’s only got t’ arsk fer a transfer to th’ garrison ’ere. We’d make a bleedin’ jolly life of it, Aw c’n tell you. Aw’d get us a cottage by th’ sea, wif winder boxes an’ all them kinds of fings, an’ ’e could go to th’ tipple’ouse as much as ’e likes, wifout me sayin’ nay. An’ then…then Aw’d be bearin’ ’im sons so’s to make ’im proud—
EMILIA (Triumphantly): There! There’s your new woman, m’lady! Free! Does for herself!
BIANCA: Why, that “new woman” kind o’ fing’s all hogwash!
(Emilia nods her head in agreement)
All women want t’get a smug, it’s wot we’re made for, ain’t it? We may pretend differnt, but inside ev’ry born one o’ us want smugs an’ babies, smugs wot are man enow t’ keep us in our place.
DESDEMONA (Quietly into her wine): I don’t think I can stand it…
BIANCA: ’Scusin’ my cheek, but you’re a lucky lady, an’ you don’t even know it. Your ’ubby might be wot you call a bit doo-lolly-tap-tap up ’ere (Taps her head) but th’ maritle knot’s tied good ’n’ strong. Every time Aw ’ear, (Dreamily) “’Til deaf do us part,” Aw starts t’ snurfle. Aw can’t ’elp it. If only Cassio would say them words an’ make me th’ ’appiest o’—
EMILIA: And what makes you think m’lord Cassio—who’s Venetian born, an’ wears silk next to his skin, not none of your Cyprus scum—is goin’ to be marryin’ a tried-on strumpet?
BIANCA: ’Coz a gen’l’man don’t lie to a bird—Aw should soddin’ well know where ofs Aw speak. Besides, m’lord Cassio gi’ me a token o’ ’is es-teem—
EMILIA: Hmmpf! And I’m after supposin’ you gave him the same, as you’ve given tokens of esteem to all your customers—a scurvy clap—that’s your token.
(Desdemona becomes curious.)
DESDEMONA: Hush, Mealy.
(To Bianca) Never mind her, Bianca—I believe you. What type of token did Cassio give?
BIANCA (As enthused as a teenage girl): It’s a real flashy bit o’ goods. It’s a muckenger so swank Aw don’t dare blow me beak in it.
(Confidentially) So Aw carry it down in me knockers an’ next to me ’eart.
DESDEMONA (Lost): A swank…muck…
BIANCA: Wot Aw mean is, it ain’t yer typic sneezer.
(Gropes into her bodice, and tenderly takes out an embroidered handkerchief; proudly) ’Ere it is, now.
DESDEMONA (Starting): Why… (Looks carefully; then in relief) Oh, thank God, Bianca, you’ve found it. I’m saved.
(Stops) But what—whatever are you doing with my handkerchief?
EMILIA (To herself): Oh, Jesus, he gave it to Cassio!
BIANCA (Blank): Your handkerchief? Yours?!
(Dangerously) What’s Cassio doin’ wi’ your hand-ker-chief?
DESDEMONA: That’s precisely what I want to find out—Emilia!
BIANCA (Fierce): Aw bet. So—you was goin’ t’ ’elp me out once a week fer Cassio?
(Advancing) You cheatin’ hussy—Aw’ll pop yer peepers out—
(Bianca lunges for Desdemona; Emilia runs.)
EMILIA: She’s Got a KNIFE!—
DESDEMONA: Listen, Bianca—
BIANCA: When Aw’m gulled by a woman, she don’t live to do it twice—
DESDEMONA: Bianca, I swear!—
(Bianca sees the hoof-pick and picks it up, slowly advancing on a clutching Desdemona, who backs away toward the clothesline.)
BIANCA: Aw’ll carve you up into cag-meat an’ feed you to the pigs.
Aw’ll gag yer puddings out yer gob, you’ll choke so hard—
DESDEMONA: I never!—
(Bianca swipes at Desdemona with the pick; the two clench each other. Breaking away, Desdemona falls, and picks up a wine bottle in defense.)
BIANCA: Yer gonna snuff it, m’lady—so say yer prayers, yew goggle-eyed scab o’ a WHORE!
(Desdemona ducks behind the hanging clothes, with Bianca following. We hear a scuffle, grunts and screams.
Emilia runs for the palace door, calling:)
EMILIA: GUARD! GUARD!!—
(Emilia flings the door open. Then she realizes she can’t call the guard, and quickly closes the door behind her, turning to face the room with grim desperation.)
EMILIA (Softly): Jesus.
BIANCA (Offstag
e): BLOODY!—
DESDEMONA (Offstage): MEALY!!
(Emilia runs away from the door, taking out her crucifix.)
EMILIA: Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus.
(And then, we hear a scream, a splash and the sound of a bottle breaking. Slowly a dark, wet stain spreads on a cloth drying on the clothesline. For a moment, there is silence.
Bianca, looking grim and fierce, strides out from behind the clothes, holding the hoof-pick. She looks at Emilia, who backs away. There is a pause.
Then, Desdemona steps from behind the hanging clothes, holding a broken wine bottle. The torso of her gown is splashed with dark, indelible burgundy.)
EMILIA (Softly): Oh, thank Jesus—
DESDEMONA: Bianca!…Bianca, I never did.
BIANCA: Leave me alone…Aw’ve lost me chance of a smug!
(Erupts into weeping, starts to wipe her nose with the handkerchief) There! Take yer filthy linen! Aw wouldn’t blow me nose in it—
DESDEMONA: Bianca—I never did. I never did.
BIANCA: Aw loved ’im—
DESDEMONA: Bianca—
BIANCA: An’ Aw lost ’im—
DESDEMONA: Bianca—
BIANCA: An’ oh, oh, the cottage by the sea…
DESDEMONA: If it makes a difference, I didn’t.
BIANCA: You gulled yer ’usband an’ you gulled me! An’ Aw thought we was mates!
(Bianca starts to leave; Emilia calls after her.)
EMILIA: I told you there’s no such thing as friendship with ladies—
BIANCA: You!! Washerdonna!! Shut Yer Potato-Trap! Don’t you be so ’igh an’ mighty smart!!
(Reaching the door, she opens it, and turns) And just where was your Iago last Tuesday night!
(Triumphantly, Bianca slams the door behind her.
A very long pause. Then, Desdemona tries to sound casual.)
DESDEMONA: Um, Emilia, dear, just…just where was Iago last Tuesday night?
EMILIA (Distressed): He…he said…he said he was on guard duty…
(Emilia begins to cry. Desdemona sits beside her, and tentatively puts her arms about Emilia. Then, Desdemona rocks her maid.)
24.
Lights up on Desdemona and Emilia, seated at the table, drinking wine, saying nothing.
25.
Desdemona and Emilia, at table, staring ahead into air. Desdemona wearily looks into her cup, and pours herself and Emilia another cup of wine. They look at each other, nod to each other, and drink together.
26.
Desdemona is drinking. Emilia grasps her mug.
EMILIA (In a low voice): Do you know which one he was?
DESDEMONA: No…I don’t think so. There were so many that night.
EMILIA: Aye, you were having a proper time at it. Travelin’ around the world!!
(Pause.)
DESDEMONA: There was one man…
(Hesitating) It might have been him.
EMILIA (Laughs harshly): My husband’s a lover of garlic. Was that the man you’re remembering?
DESDEMONA: No, it’s not that—although…
EMILIA: Well, what is it you remember!
DESDEMONA: There was one man who…didn’t last very long.
EMILIA: Aye. That’s the one.
27.
The same.
EMILIA: When I was married in the church, the knot tied beneath the Virgin’s nose, I looked forward to the bed with as much joy as any girl after a hard day. And then Iago—well, he was still a lad, with the softness of a boy, and who could tell he’d turn into the man?
(Pauses to drink)
But all that girl nonsense was knocked out of me by the nights. Night followin’ night, as sure as the day’s work came after. I’d stretch myself out on the bed, you see, waitin’ for my good man to come to me and be my mate—as the priest said he could—but then…But then I saw it didn’t matter what had gone on between us—the fights, my crying, a good meal or a cold one. Days could pass without a word between us, and he’d take his fill of me the same. I could have been the bed itself. And so, you see, I vowed not to be there for him. As he’d be lying on me in the dark, I’d picture up my Rosary, so real I could kiss the silver. And I’d start at the Blessed Cross itself, while he was somewhere doin’ his business above, and I’d say the first wooden bead, and then I’d finger the next bead in my mind, and then onto the next—(Stops) But I never did make it to the medallion. He’d be all through with me by the time of the third “Hail Mary.”
(Pause)
Does my lady know what I’m saying?
DESDEMONA: I’m not sure. I…I don’t think it’s…happened to me like that.
EMILIA: Ah, well, men are making fools of themselves over you. The Ambassador is traipsing from the mainland just to hold onto your skirt; and your husband—(Stops herself) Well, maybe it’s all different for the likes of you.
(Desdemona says nothing)
And then, maybe not. It’s hard to be seeing, when you’re young and men watch you when you pass them by, and the talkin’ stops between them. But, all in all, in time you’ll know. Women just don’t figure in their heads—not the one who hangs the wash—not Bianca—and not even you, m’lady. That’s the hard truth. Men only see each other in their eyes. Only each other.
(Beat)
And that’s why I’m ready to leave the whole pack of them behind and go with you and the Ambassador. Oh, to see my husband’s face tomorrow morning! When he finds out that I can get along by myself, with no thanks to his plotting and hatching! But it’s leave him now or be countin’ my beads through the years, waitin’ for his last breath!
DESDEMONA (Quietly): Emilia, I’ll be honest with you, even if it puts me in risk to do so…You’re to stay behind tomorrow. I’ve asked my cousin for my own safe passage. I wish to go alone with Ludovico.
(Emilia stands very still)
I am in your hands. You can run and tell my husband all—but I don’t want to trifle with your feelings and desert you with the first tide. This way, you see, I’m only temporarily leaving you behind. But I promise I’ll need your service in Venice as much as tonight. So, you’re to follow me when all household matters are in hand, taking with you whatever my husband permits. As a token of my esteem—here—(Takes off a ring, and gazes at it wistfully) I want you to have this. It’s a memento given me by Ludovico for…well, never you mind what for. Little did he think it would wind up ’round the finger of an honest woman. (Desdemona gives the ring to Emilia)
EMILIA: This ring is for me? but it’s of value, m’lady…
(Emilia tries to return it; Desdemona insists. Emilia makes a decision.)
EMILIA: Listen, Miss, you’ve gone and leveled with me, and I’m after doing the same with you!
(Blurts) M’lady, don’t go to your husband’s bed tonight. Lie apart—stay in my chamber.
DESDEMONA: Why? Whatever for? It would raise suspicion.
EMILIA: I’ll say you’re ill—with woman sickness.
DESDEMONA: But why?
EMILIA: Because…because…oh, m’lady, you know how easy it is to be seduced by a husband’s soft word, when it’s the like of angry words he pours down upon your head—
DESDEMONA (Very still): Emilia—what have you done?
EMILIA: I took the handkerchief.
DESDEMONA: You took the handkerchief…I thought you did.
EMILIA: It was to be a joke, you see; my husband put me up to it, as a lark, he said, just to see—
DESDEMONA (Very softly): Iago—Oh, my sweet Jesus—
EMILIA: And he was laughing about it, ye see, and he was as gay as a boy; he said he’d just…hide it for a while, all in jest—
DESDEMONA: Oh, no—he…he must have…planted it on Cassio—that’s why…
EMILIA: It was just for a lark!
DESDEMONA: Emilia, what has your husband been thinking!
EMILIA: I don’t know what he thinks.
(Desdemona twists the handkerchief.)
DESDEMONA: What use is this to me now! I
f I return it, my husband will say that my lover gave it back to me!!
EMILIA: Miss Desdemona—oh my lady, I’m sure your husband loves you!
DESDEMONA: How do you know that my husband—!
EMILIA: More than the world! He won’t harm you none, m’lady—I’ve often seen him—
DESDEMONA: What have you seen?!
EMILIA: I’ve seen him, sometimes when you walk in the garden, slip behind the arbor just to watch you, unawares…and at night…in the corridor…outside your room—sometimes he just stands there, Miss, when you’re asleep…he just stands there—
DESDEMONA (Frightened): Oh, Jesus—
EMILIA: And once…I saw…I came upon him unbeknowin’, and he didn’t see me—I’m sure—he was in your chamber room and he gathered up the sheets from your bed, like a body, and…and he held it to his face, like, like a bouquet, all breathin’ it in—
(The two women pause: They both realize Othello’s been smelling the sheets for traces of a lover.)
DESDEMONA: That isn’t love. It isn’t love.
(Beat)
Why didn’t you tell me this before?
EMILIA (Carefully): I always thought it was not my place.
(The two women do not speak for a moment. Emilia looks toward the palace door.)
EMILIA: Well, what are we to be doin’ now?
DESDEMONA: We have to make it to the morning. You’d better come with me—it’s not safe for you, either.
(Emilia says nothing)
We’ll have to leave all behind. It’s not safe to pack.
(Desdemona thinks.)
DESDEMONA (Carefully): Now listen, carefully, Emilia. I’ll go to my own chamber tonight. You’re to wait up for my husband’s return—tell him I’m ill and I’ve taken to my own bed. He’s not to disturb me, I’m not well. I’ll turn in before he comes, and I’ll…pretend to sleep if he should come to me.
(Pause)
Surely he’ll not…harm a sleeping woman.
EMILIA: I’ll do it.
DESDEMONA: Good. I’d better go to bed.
(Desdemona starts toward the palace door and stops.)
EMILIA: Would you like me to brush your hair tonight? A hundred strokes?
DESDEMONA: Oh, yes, please, Emilia…
28.
Emilia brushes Desdemona’s hair. Desdemona leans back, tense, listening to the offstage palace.
