If This Shall Be My Final Word

I hate to admit to this but I fear that the distress for my daughter has gotten into my blood. I can feel the knives sear through my veins like serrated steel, my heart pound to each second passing with thoughts in my mind of what is to happen to my Desdemona. I see flashes of her mother, the fair lady’s face in my dear… And then I see it struck by the Moor’s hand. Over and over again.  I see her turning, running away from me and into the devil’s black arms and Cassio’s shrewd manipulation.  

My illness has augmented for what seems tenfold since I last felt it coursing through my paling skin. My grief has become a physical ache, my limbs becoming numb with sorrow for the child I lost to a monster.

And with each fading thought, I see that she will never return.

With each cough, each clung, each stagger of breath from my lips, the reality is now clear.

She will never return.

And with that, my fellow Venetians and our glorious senate, I say adieu. 

For I feel my vision beginning to fade as the rhythms of my heart begin to wane…

And if I am lost from this world and given to our lord, I do pray one last deed- just for all the spirits to kindly keep her safe and content, and for them to protect her in the ways I never had.

Brabantio @Brabantio's Daily Accounts

She gives loyalty to the hand that strikes her instead of the one that protects her, have I raised a fool? # Every Father’s Nightmare

Disorder!

My kinsman, Lodovico reported me to after arriving to Cyprus earlier today to share of the news of Cassio replacing the Moor’s position. I have overheard about the general’s satanic episode when around fellow soldiers in a fit of rage. Well, as a demon would act! A vicious monster, spell-casting his prey and accusing them of such heinous things!

I will rip him into shreds for striking my daughter! I will burn him in flames hotter than his home in hell for what he has done! Lodovico told me that the creature struck her in front of him, as if she was as low as the women in the Moor’s homeland! As if her skin was as dark as his! He slapped her and called her a whore! People of Venice, do you hear the words of your precious general?

He told her to cry crocodile tears and sent her away- Lodovico, be proud that I was not in your place, or else your hands would be stained in the Moor’s blood!

I pray to the Heavens, spare my dear Desdemona and expel this demon from this world! I beg thee, or give me the strength and power to command all our armies against this true fiend!

Such a loggerheaded man!

That swine! He is as promiscuous and thus as shameful as the woman he tries to hide from the public! That Cassio! That user of my daughter’s kindness and care! To be with a low-life whore? I first denied it when reporters told me they had saw him exchanging with a strumpet what seemed to be a cloth! Was that his form of currency? A man even dishonorable in his payments! How disgusting! I would say also disheartening, yet a man of my stature would never sympathize with a demoralized boy such as him! If I could, I would sail to Cyprus at the closest moment and ward my daughter away from such scum. It is not necessary for her to dirty her perfectly white hands with assisting such garbage. Then it would be my duty to finally pry her away from the spell the Moor has deeply caught her in! That must be it! That’s the only explanation why she could be away for so long and not yet have returned to her loving father! I had my doubts before… blamed it on her inherited stubbornness…

 I am feeling ill. I… I need rest. That is what I need. Yes. I feel that fellow Venetians would advise that sleep is best to ward off this building unease.

My Daughter, the Samaritan

I have heard from men in the forces that they have seen Desdemona trying to aid the imprudent Michael Cassio after he has reportedly lost his position by the Moor’s firing. My daughter has always been this strong in good nature, yet I fear and always have feared the hands that might try to refract this light she always seems to shine on poorer souls. It is funny in actuality, how much she had inherited from her mother. There are no waking moments where I could earnestly pose and sprout lies that I do not miss either of them. I know Desdemona’s hearts in the right place with helping this man, despite the fact that it is unnecessary… I suppose I have finally hit the moment in every father’s existence where through darkness and light of their kin, they just wish to see them back. To grasp and hold them again.

I just hope with all my heart that her kindness isn’t misconstrued.

For My Dear

 Dedicated to my Desdemona.