For generally the man concentrates his
hatred upon the woman who deceives him, and is only disdainful of his
rival, whereas the woman for various reasons gives herself to hatred of
her rival, and feels only angry contempt for her lover's traitorism. But
Othello--or shall we not say Shakespeare?--discovers in the sincerest
ecstasy of this passion as much of the woman's nature as of the man's.
After seeing his handkerchief in Bianca's hands he asks:
"How shall I murder him, Iago?"
Manifestly, Shakespeare is thinking of Herbert and his base betrayal.
Othello would have Cassio thrown to the dogs, would have him "nine years
a-killing"; and though he adds that Desdemona shall "rot and perish and
be damned to-night," immediately afterwards we see what an infinite
affection for her underlies his anger:
"O, the world hath not a sweeter creature: she might
lie by an emperor's side and command him tasks."
And then Shakespeare uses his brains objectively, so to speak, to excuse
his persistent tenderness, and at once he reveals himself and proves to
us that he is thinking of Mary Fitton, and not of poor Desdemona:
"Hang her! I do but say what she is.
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