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.
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