In Shakespeare's famous tragedy of Othello we are projected into a scene of emotions and violence. One ignorant character plays a big part in the eventual downfall of Othello, however blends into the background. She is a women suffering from choosing between obedience to her husband, or obedience to her mistress. She sees many of the events first hand, but what is she really thinking? What thoughts go through her mind as she takes the handkerchief? How does she feel when she hears of her husband's betrayal? The following is a monologue of Emilia's intimate thoughts and suspicions from when she steals Desdemona's handkerchief in Act III Scene III and follows through to her untimely death.
Emilia
I watch as she wipes his brow with her napkin, see the love in her eyes as she looks at him with worry. He looks on her and sees beauty and love. The happiness that was once mine when time had allowed it is now hers. She tells him that she is sorry that he is not feeling well and her kindness and purity show in her face, she is so true and therefore I cannot despise their love for it is as if it were meant to be.
As they leave for dinner I see the abandoned napkin, a token which my dear husband had asked me to take. Iago, my beloved husband, mayhap he will reward me for this token, perhaps he will see my worthiness. I wonder why he requests this napkin, has he himself developed a tender for the fair Desdemona? Does he crave her, after he has had me, like my sweet Othello did?
If this is so, and I am sure it is then he shall have this napkin for she will not have Iago, she has love only for Othello, therefore Iago will be left to pine, as punishment for wanting her.
Iago comes into our room, he seems pleased with himself and I am curious but do not ask why, he does not like me to question him. His happiness is ten-fold when I show him the Lady's napkin I had stolen, and my heart races hoping that he is pleased with me, but as I look at him I know that it is not I that has given him such joy, it is something or perhaps someone else. I begin to hate him, I love him, this man my husband, even more than I had once loved Othello, but I hate him, I hate him because he doesn't love me, not like Othello loves my fair lady. This thought makes me sour.
My lady thinks she has lost her napkin, she questions me on where she might have placed it. I tell her that I have not seen it, she seems quite distressed over it since it was the first gift given to her by her beloved husband. I am beginning to feel guilty over the robbery, however, I can not confess, I could not get the napkin returned or tell the truth of its whereabouts for Iago will not like that and I am forced to obey him. I am sure Othello will give the lady another token, for he loves and worships her. As we are discussing the loss, Othello enters the chamber, he asks the lady for her napkin to wipe her sweaty palms, a sign of the lustfulness she is feeling. He tells of the napkin's story; how it belonged to his mother and how it holds special powers of love. He stresses the blunder in losing the token or giving it to another, she denies losing it and begins to plead for Cassio's case. Unexpectedly he is enraged at Desdemona, showing nothing of his usual caring character, he looks like a man green with jealousy. I am suddenly afeard that my taking the fallen token has caused the powers of the napkin to destroy the love that exists between the lord and lady, perhaps I have caused this anger. I cannot allow them to realise my error and must convince my lady that Othello's anger is regular, that he is acting like any other man, so that she does not suspect his love is gone.
I am left alone in my lady's chamber and I think about how I can make right this awful wrong. Perhaps Iago knew of the powers of this napkin and that is why he got me to take it, so that he would be free to have Desdemona once her love for Othello had gone. Although this is a fair plan, I do not believe it for Iago is not a superstitious man, he would not believe in the mystical powers of the kerchief. I must find a way to retrieve the napkin and return the love between Desdemona and Othello that I have so carelessly taken in my own hope for love. I wonder about how I shall go about making matters right when the Great Moor himself graces me with his presence. I am glad to see him, mayhap I can convince him that he does love my sweet lady. Before I get the chance he speaks. I am shocked and surprised to hear that he questions the purity of his wife, the sweet lady Desdemona, she would never be false, and with Cassio a man just as sweet and innocent as she, he would not do such a wrong to a friend. What's more I have never left the two alone together, they never talk in secret or order me gone. I tell this to my handsome lord and hold hope that he believes these truths. He bids me go get his lady and I leave, I hear him mutter that I am a whore keeper and know that he does not believe it, he knows that I have little hesitation with defying my own husband, as I did when I was with him.
Desdemona is distressed over her quarrel with her lord husband, he has called her and me a whore, I can not claim innocence of that charge as he well knows of my own infidelity, but my lady is most pure. I am filled with suspicion, for this accusation is sudden and has no foundations in truth. I am worried that this is all connected to the loss of the napkin, and I am sorry that I stole it. I have bathed Desdemona and she is now abed awaiting her husband, I must think of how to set things straight, work out why my Lord Othello would suspect my lady of such misdeeds.
I walk along the path from the Citadel to my own home, I am troubled by the hostility between the lovers and can think of nothing else. I can hear yelling and grunting, as if someone is in pain. I run towards the noise and find crowds of people gather around two bodies, I spot my husband. He tells of the attack against Cassio and I immediately fear it is related to the quarrel between the lord and lady. Iago tells of the fight and of Roderigo's death, and bids me tell the tale to his lordship.
As I run back towards my lady's chamber I am fearful of facing the lord again, as his powerful anger had disturbed me last I saw him. Upon meeting the lord I tell him the news and he seems not himself, nor the man full of rage I had earlier met. I hear a strangled cry from the bed, my lady's voice I would not doubt, I rush to her, for she sounds as if in pain. I am stunned to watch my lady confess her own murder and die in my arms, the illogical circumstances floating around in my head. I tell Othello that things are not right and are again astonished when he admits that he in truth have killed the sweet lady. Again I hear his accusations of her affair with Cassio, he claims that my husband had told him of Desdemona's whoring. Suddenly I cannot breath, my husband had caused this murder, my love, he had made this falsehood against the lady and convinced Othello of its truth. I knew that he had faults, but never that he would sink so low. I scream murder, for that is what has happened, the Lord has murdered his Lady due to my husbands lies. All come running to see what foul creature has committed a crime. Iago comes as well, and I confront him with the lies, begging him to prove Othello wrong, hoping that he did not bring such accusations against my lady, for I cannot believe my husband would do such a thing. He admits that he told of the lady's unsavory actions and that they were not lies, he orders me away from his sight. I cannot obey him, not any longer for he lies and I must prove it. I declare Desdemona's purity to the whole crowd but Othello speaks out about the proof that he saw with his own eyes, the napkin that belonged to his lady, given to Cassio. Upon hearing about the napkin my heart drops, it cannot be true, my lord husband is more than responsible, he planned the events, he wanted to hurt my lady and he has succeeded. I realise what kind of man my husband is, and I confess all to my Lord and the crowd, my giving of the napkin to my husband and his treachery. I look upon Iago as his face goes crimson with rage, and I myself am angry, for he has killed something pure not only the sweet lady, but my love for him along with her. I draw my eyes away from the villain and see the Moor screaming and crying with pain over the anguish he has caused himself and his love, at first I do not see Iago, not until I feel the sharp constant sudden pain that wrenches my body apart as he plunges his knife into my back. I scream with pain and know that I am dying. At my request I am laid by my mistress, I slowly and painfully feel myself leave this world, I think of my mistress and the cruel way she was given to death. She was such an innocent child, that's only fault like mine was to love. My eyes close, giving into to the notion of death, a napkin is my last vision, a napkin with which I had stolen, a napkin which can turn love to hate and causes anguish to it's beholders with it's magical powers.