“O! it comes o'er my memory,
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all,—he had my handkerchief.”
The interest swings still higher; the scene in which Iago uses Cassio's conceit and laughter to exasperate further the already mad Othello is one of the notable triumphs of dramatic art. But just as the quick growth of his jealousy, and its terrible sensuality, have shown us that Othello is not the self-contained master of his passions that he pretends to be and that Shakespeare wishes us to believe, so this scene, in which the listening Othello rages in savagery, reveals to us an intense femininity of nature. 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.—So delicate with her needle!—An admirable musician! O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear.—Of so high and plenteous wit and invention.”
Shakespeare himself speaks in this passage. For when has Desdemona shown high and plenteous wit or invention? She is hardly more than a symbol of constancy. It is Mary Fitton who has “wit and invention,” and is “an admirable musician.”
The feminine tenderness in Shakespeare comes to perfect expression in the next lines; no woman has a more enduring affection:
“Iago. She's the worse for all this.