An Honest Man's Lament

By: Jesfrealo

Author's Note: This is something I wrote after reading Othello…it's conjecture as to the emotions of Cassio a short time after the action of the play.  Very short.

I live; indeed, I do keep life.  To the great surprise and against the plans of that devil, I do live.  But what now?  This place, I think, is cursed.  For so many have died…so many great, good, honest people have passed from this world to the next.  And what?  What for?  The whims of a madman!!  I thought him my friend.  Good, honest Iago!  Ha!

The General is dead.  My general, my friend!  Dead in body but first in soul.  So taken away by that villain.  Soul so emaciated that it was barely recognizable.  What happened?  What went so wrong?  And the ladies?  What of them?  Why?  My good lady, dead.  For her goodness, her kindness, her love, her mercy, her purity, her innocence?  What?  And now, all this is left to me.  Commander in Cyprus?  I don't want it.  I am not worthy of the title.  I do not want to be in this wretched place of death. 

O!  And that villain.  He still lives.  I know not what to do with him.  He deserves punishment of the vilest kind, for it suits him.  But, yet, I do not know what to do.  He cannot be punished as he did crime.  'Tis not possible.  I thought him my friend…the good, honest Iago!  O, fool…what fools we all were.  All ensnared in his trap.  He killed his friend, his wife, all…and for what?  His own pleasure.  I know not what to do, or think, or feel.  I was so misguided.  Could I have stopped it?  If only…If only.  So many things could have conspired differently and saved so many good and innocent souls.  I know not…what to do.  I know not. 

My poor friend, Othello, my general and commander, my lord!  I did so love him in his goodness; I do so mourn his fate.  Why would fate have brought this about?  It defies good sense.  It does defy goodness itself. What did I do to deserve his scorn?  What did any of us do?  And yet, I would have sworn upon my life that he was good, honest, and my good friend.  The general would have too that is sure.  What came about in his mind to cause this?  I have asked again and again this question of the villain and I get no response.  He does not speak.  I am tempted, greatly, to extract an answer from him using whatever means necessary, there is no doubt some way in which to motivate his tongue.  Every man has his breaking point, his limit by which he cannot proceed…I feel near to mine.  There is too much pain and difficulty in all of this.  And to think, I've benefited from these horrors!  The men know it too.  They see my benefit in all of this and talk of it.  What sort of army shall this be?  When the commander comes into power in this dreadful way.  I would talk of it too.  Damned, this grisly, blood drenched place!