“Indeed! Is it true?” said Desdemona, getting more and more alarmed.
“Most true. Therefore look to it well,” said Othello in a threatening manner.
Desdemona still persisted that the handkerchief was not lost, and remembering her promise to Cassio, she most unwisely chose this ill-starred moment again to urge her suit. Her innocent good-nature was the final stroke to Othello’s jealous wrath, and harshly repeating, “The handkerchief! the handkerchief!” he strode away in ungovernable fury.
Worked up to madness by the diabolical arts of Iago, he saw in his young wife’s apparent simplicity and candour nothing but the most clever deceit, and he determined to punish her supposed insincerity in the most terrible manner.
No Way but This
Though Othello had come to the terrible conclusion that Desdemona must die, he could not prevent his thoughts dwelling again and again on all the charm and loveliness of his dear young wife. This did not suit Iago’s purpose, for he was afraid lest Othello should relent before his revenge was accomplished. So he did his utmost in every way to incite Othello still more against Desdemona. He cunningly reminded him of Brabantio’s parting words, and said if Desdemona had deceived her father in concealing her affection for Othello, why should she not equally deceive her husband in concealing her affection for someone else?
“She shall not live—no, my heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand,” said Othello. Then, “O, the world hath not a sweeter creature!”
“Nay, that’s not your way,” said Iago, ill-pleased.
“I do but say what she is,” returned Othello. “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——”
“She’s the worse for all this,” said Iago.