TEATRO EN VIVO LIVE THEATER
Oh Celos!
Duke
It was late at night. We were gathered in the council chambers to urge the defense of Cyprus island, which the Ottomans threatened to invade, when Brabantio, the senator, and Othello, my captain arrived.
I welcomed them as deserved: pushing Othello to fight for our common enemy, the Ottoman, and asking Brabantio for some advice.
But Brabantio could not care less about the island´s fate at that moment. He was asking for advice, since he had discovered that his daughter, that sweet girl I had met while holding his hand, this shy young woman who rejected rich and handsome suitors, so delicate, with a beautiful voice, skillful hands, the most perfect Desdemona had been seduced and perverted.
Whoever did it, I told him, should receive the full force of law upon them, even if it is one of our children.
Thank you, I could not expect less. It is him, he said and pointed to Othello, the fat-lipped, dark-skinned I thought I could trust with the defense of Cyprus.
Othello?! How can you defend yourself from this grievance? Say something.
Nothing, he can't say anything, because it's true.
Wait, Brabantio, let him talk.
Powerful gentlemen, it is indeed true that I have taken this old man's daughter.
And I married her.
That's my crime.
And there is no point trying to defend myself because I know that my words are harsh and not blessed with the language of peace. Since I was 6 years of age, until about 9 moons ago, I have done no more than using the strength and energy of my arms in battles and fights, and little do I know about that vast Universe, but if you will allow me, I´d like to talk about drugs, charms, spells, and magical powers, as that´s what I am accused of, using them to seduce your daughter.
She was a child, with such a candid and modest soul that nothing would make her blush. What despair could there be in her soul for her to fall in love with you? Seeing you was even fearful, as rather than delight, you inspire terror. No. Perfection cannot err against all the laws of nature. Witchcraft, I state, that´s what you did that to steal her from me.
My friend, statements are no evidence. Accurate testimonies are required for that, I then said, to stop such an offensive and discriminatory speech against my captain.
Speak, Othello. Did you poison her? senators inquired disorderly.
Call Desdemona and she can explain this in front of her father. While she arrives, with the same sincerity I can use to talk about the vices of my blood, I will tell you how I won her heart and she won mine.
He said that, the vices of my blood. How would that man have defined himself back then, I wonder now, or did we define them and he only acknowledgment what he received.
His father would often invite me to his house, so that I could tell him the story of my life. He wanted to know everything, about all the battles, sieges and chances I have known. I would tell him my entire story, since I was a child, year by year, without omitting anything: the pitiful accidents by sea and land, and all the times I had been close to dying, how I was taken prisoner and sold as a slave, how I was rescued, and my trips around this vast world. The barren deserts, the high cliffs and mountains whose tops touch the sky, the wild quarries, the dark forests. Caves where cannibals live, how they eat each other; the island of lotophages, who live happily eating flowers that make them laugh nonstop; men who carry their head under their shoulder and live scared and so many amazing things I have seen. Desdemona listened to my stories attentively, but house chores forced her to get up frequently, and sometimes she lost the thread of the story and I could see that frustrated her. So, I chose a proper day and time to talk to her and found a way to make her beg me to tell her all about my trips. I agreed, and I sometimes would steal some tears from her when I told her about the painful blows which had made my youth painful. At the end of my story, she told me with a strange gleam in her eyes, that had she been born a man, she would have wanted to be a man like me and if one day I had a friend who loved her, I should teach him how to tell my story, and that would be enough for her to marry him.
She loved me for the dangers I had faced, and I loved her for the pity she showed for them. That was the witchcraft I used.
Desdemona entered at that moment, and I thought "I'm glad my daughter did not listen to Othello's stories, otherwise he would already be my son-in-law, and I could only tell Brabantio, please don´t take this offense so painfully my friend, that it's better to fight with a broken sword than with your bare hands, but he begged that we listened to her, and if she confessed that she loved him freely, for God's sake, he would not raise any other complaints about the moor. Then he asked her openly: Daughter, among all this noble people, who do you owe more obedience to?
I owe my obedience to you, because you gave me life, father, but I owe the same obedience that my mother showed you, to Othello, my husband.
For God's sake, I have nothing else to say. If it pleases you, Your Highness, we'd better talk about matters of state and you, moor, with all my heart I give you what I would otherwise deny you, if it wasn't yours already. And thanks to you, my little jewel, I feel happy about not having more children, as your elopement would make me be a tyrant with them, but I'm done already. Let's talk about other matters.
Come on friend, I said, with the best intention, bless these lovers, and smile, since a man who has been stolen from, steals something back from his thief when he smiles.
And he replied, then let the Ottomans steal our island, and we will smile. No, Your Highness, words are words and they will never make a wounded chest heal. So, I humbly ask you to move on to State matters.
I agreed, the clock was ticking. Othello, I said, I am sorry to overshadow this fortunate moment, but you must immediately leave for Cyprus. He agreed, but first, he wanted to leave Desdemona where she could be comfortable. His father would not let him go back home and neither Othello nor her would have consented. Desdemona asked to go with him and submit her heart to the conditions of her husband's military profession. I had no problem with that. I only urged him to leave that same night and the next day I would send him ordinances and other titles.
The moor decided to leave Iago, his” honored " ensign, in charge of collecting the documents and transferring beautiful Desdemona safely to Cyprus.
But before we left, I could hear Brabantio giving some advice to Othello: you should watch her, if she outsmarted her father, she may as well deceive you…
That was the last time I saw them, and now I receive atrocious news of what just happened at the island....
How could such an ugly man make such a gracious creature fall in love, if it is not with spells, stated Barbantio, her father. But no,
I do not know if my soul has the capacity to understand
the pleats and creases of the human soul.
Why does a man kill a woman?
So many uncertainties assault me, and I do not know if one day I will understand.
How those springs that are so intimate, which we sometimes don't even want to recognize in our own soul
springs that drive men to do evil...