TIME--_At and after Lunch._
NORTH--TALBOYS--SEWARD--BULLER.
NORTH.
Having demonstrated SHORT TIME AT CYPRUS, let us now, if it
please you, gentlemen, show forth LONG TIME AT CYPRUS.
TALBOYS.
With all our heart. We have _demonstrated_ the one, let us _show forth_
the other.
NORTH.
And as, in our Demonstration of Short Time, we kept Long Time out of
sight--excluded him from the Tent--
BULLER.
Pardon me, sir. I for one was beginning to feel his influence.
NORTH.
How?
BULLER.
In that contraction and expansion of the jaws denoted by that most
expressive and characteristic word YAWN; for Seward and I were
but listeners.
NORTH.
I don't believe you heard one word.
BULLER.
I did--several; and spoiled a promising Palmer in idly trying to
audit your discourse at the interesting point of quarrel--just as
you, sir, threw yourself back on your Swing, with an angry jerk, and
Talboys started up, "like Teneriffe or Atlas removed," endangering the
stability of the Tent.
NORTH.
My dear Talboys, I was saying to you, when rudely interrupted by
Buller, that as in our demonstration of Short Time at Cyprus, we,
purposely and determinedly, and wisely kept Long Time out of sight,
on account of the inextricable perplexity and confusion that would
otherwise have involved the argument, so now let us, in showing forth
Long Time at Cyprus, keep out of sight Short--and then shall we
finally have before our ken TWO TIMES at Cyprus, each firmly
established on its own ground--and imperiously demanding of the Critics
of this great Tragedy--Reconcilement. Reconcilement it may be beyond
their power to give--but let them first see the GREAT FACT
which not one of the whole set have seen--HAND IN HAND ONE DAY AND
UNASSIGNED WEEKS! The condition is altogether anomalous--
TALBOYS.
A DAY OF THE CALENDAR, AND A MONTH OF THE CALENDAR! No human
soul ever dreams of the dreadful sayings and doings all coming off
IN A DAY! till he looks--till he is made to look--as we have
made Seward and Buller to look--for they heard every word we said--and
finds himself nailed by Act and Scene.
NORTH.
To some FIFTEEN HOURS.
BULLER.
I thought you were going to show forth Long Time at Cyprus.
NORTH.
Why, there it is, staring you in the face everywhere--you may see it
with your eyes shut--and as most people read with their eyes shut, they
see it--and they see it only--while--
BULLER.
Why, sir, since you won't get on a little faster, Talboys and I must be
Ushers to Long Time.
NORTH.
Be--do.
TALBOYS.
Long Time cunningly insinuates itself, serpentwise, throughout
Desdemona's first recorded conversation with Cassio, at the beginning
of Scene III., Act III.--the "Dreadful Scene." Thus--
"Assure thee,
If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it
To the last article: my lord shall never rest;
I'll watch him tame, and talk him out of patience;
His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift;
I'll intermingle everything he does
With Cassio's suit: Therefore be merry, Cassio;
For thy solicitor shall rather die
Than give thy cause away."
This points to a protracted time in the future--and though
announcing an intention merely, yet somehow it leaves an impression
that Desdemona carries her intention into effect--that she does "watch
him tame," does make his "bed seem a school"--does "intermingle
everything she does with Cassio's suit." The passage recurred to my
mind, I recollect, when you first hinted to me the question of time;
and no doubt it tells so on the minds of many--
NORTH.
Inconsiderate people.
TALBOYS.
All people are more or less inconsiderate, sir.
NORTH.
True.
TALBOYS.
Then Desdemona says--
"How now, my lord?
I have been talking with a suitor here,
A man _that languishes in your displeasure_."
I cannot listen to that line, even now, without a feeling
of the heart-sickness of protracted time--"hope deferred maketh the
heart sick"--_languishes!_ even unto death. I think of that fine line
in Wordsworth--
"So fades--_so languishes_--grows dim, and dies."
SEWARD.
Poo!
NORTH.
Seward, the remark is a fine one.
TALBOYS.
Far on in this Scene, Othello says to Iago--
"If more thou dost perceive, let me know more:
Set on thy wife to observe."
Iago has not said that he had perceived anything, but
Othello, greatly disturbed, speaks as if Iago had said that he had
perceived a good deal; and we might believe that they had been a long
time at Cyprus. Othello then says--
"This honest creature, doubtless,
Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds."
In all this, sir, we surely have a feeling of longish time.
SEWARD.
Poo!
NORTH.
Heed him not--English manners. We have--
TALBOYS.
"O curse of marriage!
That we can call those delicate creatures ours--
And not their appetites."
This is the language of a some time married man--not of a
man the morning after his nuptials.
NORTH.
The Handkerchief.
TALBOYS.
Ay--Emilia's words.
"I am glad I have found this napkin;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor--
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it; but she so loves the token,
(For he conjur'd her, she would ever keep it,)
That she reserves it evermore about her,
To kiss, and talk to."
Here we have long time, and no mistake. Iago has wooed her
to steal it a hundred times! When and where? Since their arrival at
Cyprus.
SEWARD.
I don't know that.
TALBOYS.
Nor do I. But I say the words naturally give us the impression of long
time. In none of his soliloquies at Venice, or at Cyprus on their
first arrival, has Iago once mentioned that Handkerchief as the chief
instrument of his wicked design--and therefore Emilia's words imply
weeks at Cyprus,--
"What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?
_Iago._ What handkerchief?
_Emilia._ Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal."
NORTH.
Go on.
TALBOYS.
"What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?
I saw it not--thought it not--it harm'd not me--
_I slept the next night well_--was free and merry;
I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips."
Next night--night after night--many nights--many _wedded_
nights--long time at Cyprus.
NORTH.
And then Cassio's dream.
TALBOYS.
"I lay with Cassio--_lately_." Where, but at Cyprus? "Cursed fate! that
_gave thee to the Moor_."
SEWARD.
Of that by-and-by.
TALBOYS.
Of that now. What?
SEWARD.
By-and-by.
NORTH.
Better be a dumb dog, Seward, than snarl so.
TALBOYS.
And on Othello going off in a rage about the handkerchief--what saith
Desdemona?--
"_I ne'er saw this before._"
These few words are full charged with long time.
NORTH.
They are. And Emilia's--"'Tis not a year or two shows us a man." True,
that is a kind of general reflection--but a most foolish general
reflection indeed, if made to a Wife weeping at her husband's harshness
the day after marriage.
TALBOYS.
Emilia's "year or two" cannot mean one day--it implies weeks--or
months. Desdemona then says,--
"Something, sure, of state,
_Either from Venice_, or some unhatch'd practice," &c.
Does not _that_ look like long time at Cyprus? Unlike the
language of one who had herself arrived at Cyprus from Venice but the
day before. And in continuation, Desdemona's
"Nay, we must think, men are not gods;
Nor of them look for such observances
_As fit the bridal_."
And that thought brings sudden comfort to poor Desdemona,
who says sweetly--
"Beshrew me much, Emilia,
I was (unhandsome warrior as I am,)
Arraigning his unkindness with my soul;
But now, I find, I had suborn'd the witness,
And he's indited falsely."
That is--why did I, a married woman some months old,
forget that the honey-moon is gone, and that my Othello, hero as he is,
is now--not a Bridegroom--but a husband? "Men are not gods."
NORTH.
And Bianca? She's a puzzler.
TALBOYS.
A puzzler, and something more.
"_Bianca._ Save you, friend Cassio!
_Cassio._ What make you from home?
How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?
I'faith, sweet love, I was coming _to your house_.
_Bianca._ And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.
What! keep a week away? seven days and nights?
Eight score eight hours? And lovers' absent hours,
More tedious than the dial eight score times?
O weary reckoning!
_Cassio._ Pardon me, Bianca;
I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd;
But I shall, in a more continuate time,
Strike off the score of absence."
Here the reproaches of Bianca to Cassio develop long time.
For, besides his week's absence from her house, there is implied the
preceding time necessary for contracting and habitually carrying on the
illicit attachment. Bianca is a Cyprus householder; Cassio sups at her
house; his intimacy, which has various expressions of continuance, has
been formed with her there; he has found her, and grown acquainted with
her there, not at Venice. I know it has been suggested that she was his
mistress at Venice--that she came with the squadron from Venice; and
that her last cohabitation with Cassio had taken place in Venice about
a week ago--but for believing this there is here not the slightest
ground. "What! keep a week away?" would be a strange exclamation,
indeed, from one who knew that he had been but a day on shore--had
landed along with herself yesterday from the same ship--and had been
a week cooped up from her in a separate berth. And Bianca, seeing the
handkerchief, and being told to "take me this work out," cries--
"O Cassio! whence came this?
This is some token from a newer friend.
_To the felt absence now I feel a cause._"
"To the felt absence," Eight score eight hours! the cause?
Some new mistress at Cyprus--not forced separation at sea.
NORTH.
Then, Talboys, in Act IV., Scene I., Othello is listening to the
conversation of Iago and Cassio, which he believes relates to his wife.
Iago says--
"She gives it out that you shall marry her;
Do you intend it?
_Cassio._ Ha! ha! ha!
_Othello._ Do you triumph, Roman? Do you triumph?
_Iago._ Faith! the cry goes, _that you shall marry her_.
_Cassio._ Pr'ythee, say true.
_Iago._ I am a very villain else.
_Othello._ Have you SCORED ME? Well."
That is, have you marked me for destruction, in order
that you may marry my wife? Othello believes that Cassio is said to
entertain an intention of marrying Desdemona, and infers that, as a
preliminary, he must be put out of the way. This on the first day after
marriage? No, surely--long time at Cyprus.
TALBOYS.
Iago says to Cassio,
"My Lord is fallen into an epilepsy:
This is his second fit: _he had one yesterday_.
_Cassio._ Rub him about the temples.
_Iago._ No, forbear;
The lethargy must have his quiet course:
If not, he foams at mouth; and, by-and-by,
Breaks out to savage madness."
This is a lie--but Cassio believes it. Cassio could
not have believed it, and therefore Iago would not have told it,
had "yesterday" been the day of the triumphant, joyful, and happy
arrival at Cyprus. Assuredly, Cassio knew that Othello had had no
fit _that_ day; that day he was Othello's lieutenant--Iago but his
Ancient--and Iago could know nothing of any fits that Cassio knew not
of--therefore--Long Time.
NORTH.
"For I will make him tell the tale anew,
Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when,
He hath--and is again to--"
He does so--and Othello believes what he hears Cassio tell
of Bianca to be of Desdemona. Madness any way we take it--but madness
possible only--on long time at Cyprus.
TALBOYS.
Then, sir, the trumpet announcing the arrival of Lodovico from Venice,
at the close of Iago's and Othello's murderous colloquy, and Lodovico
giving Othello a packet containing--his recall!
"They do command him home,
Deputing Cassio in his government."
What are we to make of that?
NORTH.
The Recall, except after considerable time, would make the policy of
the Senate frivolous--a thing Shakspeare never does, for the greatness
of political movements lies everywhere for a support to the strength
and power of his tragical fable. Half that we know of Othello out of
the Scenes is, that he is the trusted General of the Senate. What
gravity his esteem with you derives hence, and can we bear to think
of him superseded without cause? Had Lodovico, who brings the new
commission, set off the day after Othello from Venice? No. You imagine
an intercourse, which has required time, between Othello, since his
appointment, and the Senate. Why, in all the world, do they thus
suddenly depose him, and put Cassio in his place? You cannot well think
that the very next measure of the Senate, after entrusting the command
of Cyprus, their principal Island, to their most tried General, in most
perilous and critical times, was to displace him ere they hear a word
from him. They have not had time to know that the Turkish Fleet is
wrecked and scattered, unless they sit behind Scenes in the Green-room.
TALBOYS.
We must conclude that the Senate must give weeks or months to this New
Governor ere interfering with him.--To recall him before they know
he has reached Cyprus--nay, to send a ship after him next day--or a
day or two following his departure--would make these "most potent,
grave, and reverend Signors," enigmas, and the Doge an Idiot. What
though a steamer had brought tidings back to Venice that the Turks
had been "banged" and "drowned?" That was not a sufficient reason to
order Othello back before he could have well set his foot on shore, or
taken more than a look at the state of the fortifications, in case the
Ottoman should fit out another fleet.
NORTH.
Then mark Lodovico's language. He asks, seeing Othello strike his
wife--as well he may--"Is it his use?" Or did the letters "work upon
his blood, and new-create this fault?" And Iago answers, "It is not
honesty in me to speak _what I have seen and known_." Lodovico says,
"The noble Moor, whom our Senate call all in all sufficient." Then they
have not quarrelled with him, at least--nor lost their good opinion of
him! Iago answers, "He is much changed?" What, in a day? And again--"It
is not honesty in me to speak what I have seen and known." What, in a
day? Lodovico comes evidently to Othello after a long separation--such
as affords room for a moral transformation; and Iago's words----lies as
they are--and seen to be lies by the most unthinking person--yet refer
to much that has passed in an ample time--to a continued course of
procedure.
NORTH.
But in all the Play, nothing is so conclusive of long time as the
Second Scene of the Third Act.
"_Othello._ You have seen nothing, then?
_Emilia._ Nor ever heard; nor ever did suspect.
_Othello._ Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.
_Emilia._ But then I saw no harm; and then I heard
Each syllable, that breath made up between them.
_Othello._ What, did they never whisper?
_Emilia._ Never, my Lord.
_Othello._ Nor send you out o' the way?
_Emilia._ Never.
_Othello._ To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?
_Emilia._ Never, my Lord.
_Othello._ That's strange."
If all this relates to their residence at Cyprus, it
indicates many weeks.
SEWARD.
Ay--IF.
NORTH.
What wicked whisper was that? Did you whisper, Buller?
BULLER.
No. I have not once whispered for a quarter of a century--My whispering
days have long been over.
NORTH.
Then a word about Emilia. "I prythee, let thy wife attend on her," says
Othello, going on board at Venice, to Iago. In the slight way in which
such arrangements can be touched, this request is conclusive evidence
to Emilia's being then _first_ placed about Desdemona's person. It has
no sense else; nor is there the slightest ground for supposing a prior
acquaintance, at least intimacy. What had an Ensign's wife to do with
a Nobleman's daughter? and now she is attached as an Attendant. Now,
consider, first, Emilia's character. She seems not very principled, not
very chaste. She gives you the notion of a tolerably well-practised
Venetian Wife. Hear Iago's opinion, who suspects her with two persons,
and one on general rumour. Yet how strong her affection for Desdemona,
and her faith in her purity! She witnesses for her, and she dies
for her! I ask, how long did that affection and that opinion take
to grow? a few days at Venice, and a week while they were sea-sick
aboard ship? No. Weeks--months. A gentle lady once made to me that
fine remark,--"Emilia has not much worth in herself, but is raised
into worth by her contact with Desdemona--into heroic worth!" "I care
not for thy sword--I'll make thee known, though I lost twenty lives."
And that bodeful "Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home"! what does
it mean? but a dim surmise, or a clear, that what she will disclose
will bring the death upon her from his dagger, which it brings. The
impure dying a voluntary martyr for the pure is to the highest degree
affecting--is the very manner of Shakspeare, to express a principal
character by its influence on subordinate ones--has its own moral
sublimity; but more than all, for our purpose, it witnesses time. Love,
and Faith, and Fidelity, won from her in whom these virtues are to be
first created!
SEWARD.
Very fine. My dear sir, you are not angry with me?
TALBOYS.
Angry? Not he. Look on his face--how mild!
NORTH.
Othello, in his wrath, calls Emilia "a closet-lock-and-key of villanous
secrets: and yet she'll kneel and pray; I have seen her do't." Where
and when? It could only have been at Cyprus; and such language denotes
a somewhat long attendance there on Desdemona.
SEWARD.
Ingenious--and better than so.
NORTH.
"Some of your function, mistress," renewed to Emilia--when, after
conversing with Desdemona, Othello is going out--is his treatment
of one whom he supposes to have been serviceable to his wife's and
Cassio's amour. Where? There, only there, in Cyprus, by all witnessing,
palpably. _She_ could not before. He speaks to her as _professional_ in
such services, therefore long dealing in them; but this all respects
this one intrigue, not her previous life. The wicked energy of
the forced attribution vanishes, if this respects anything but her
helpfulness to his wife and her paramour, and at Cyprus--there--only
there. Nothing points to a farther back looking suspicion. Iago's
"thousand times committed" can only lengthen out the stay at Cyprus.
Othello still believes that she once loved him--that she has fallen to
corruption.
BULLER.
Antenuptial?
NORTH.
Faugh! Could he have the most horrible, revolting, and loathsome of
all thoughts, that he wedded her impure? and not a hint given of that
most atrocious pang? Incredible--impossible! I can never believe, if
Shakspeare intended an infidelity taking precedency of the marriage,
that he would not by word or by hint have said so. Think how momentous
to our intelligence of the jealousy the _date_ is; not as to Tuesday
or Wednesday, but as to before or after the nuptial knot--before or
after the first religious loosing of the virgin zone. That a man's
wife has turned into a wanton--hell and horror! But that he wedded
one--Pah! Faugh! Could Iago, could Othello, could Shakspeare have left
_this_ point in the chronology of guilt to be argued out doubtfully?
No. The greatest of Poets for pit, boxes, and gallery, must have
written intelligibly to pit, boxes, and gallery; and extrication,
unveiled, after two hundred and fifty years, by studious men, in a fit
of perplexity, cannot be the thunderbolt which Shakspeare flung to his
audience at the Globe Theatre.
TALBOYS.
You remember poor, dear, Sweet Mrs Henry Siddons--_the_ Desdemona--how
she gave utterance to those words
"It was his bidding--therefore, good Emilia,
Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu;
We must not now displease him.
_Emilia._--I would you had never seen him!
_Desdemona._--So would not I; my love doth so approve him,
That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns,--
Pr'ythee, unpin me,--have grace and favour in them.
_Emilia._--I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.
_Desdemona._--All's one: Good father! how foolish are our minds!
If I do die before thee--pr'ythee shroud me
In one of those same sheets."
The wedding sheets were _reserved_. They had been laid by for
weeks--months--time long enough to give a saddest character to the
bringing them out again--a serious, ominous meaning--disturbed from the
quietude, the sanctity of their sleep by a wife's mortal presentiment
that they may be her shroud.
NORTH.
_Long time established at Cyprus._
_Verdict_--DESDEMONA MURDERED BY OTHELLO HEAVEN KNOWS WHEN.