A senator’s Diary

By Aditi Rawat, Year 10C

A shock, a surprise, a bolt out of the blue; I am left speechless. The things I heard and saw today should never have happened. Oh, the things I witnessed!

Today, in the council-chamber, we senators along with the Duke were having a consequential discussion upon where to send our troops. Our decision could have been the rise or fall for all of Venice. We were told that the Turks had set off to attack either the island of Rhodes or the island of Cyprus. Amid the discussion, a message was delivered to us by a sailor, saying that hundreds of Turkish ships were headed towards the island of Rhodes. By God, if the Duke would have acted upon it, we may have had to pay a heavy price! The Ottomans, those scum, tried to fool us into sending our men towards Rhodes, but the words of Signior Montano, the Duke’s most trusted and valiant servitor, delivered his advice to us by a messenger, that the Ottomans were changing their course towards Cyprus, and so we should send our men there too.

‘Twas then the Moor - Othello - and Signor Brabantio arrived with some other men in the chamber. We were all pleased to see Brabantio, as we lacked his council and help, but upon entering the room Brabantio cried upon his grief. He mentioned his daughter - Desdemona - being taken away. Everyone stood stunned. We had all thought Desdemona had died, but thankfully ‘twas not so. However, what happened was just as unfavourable; It seemed that Othello had laid hold of Desdemona’s heart. ‘Twas unbelievable to hear at first, but soon I realised that what Brabantio said was not for laughs. Othello and Desdemona had married. The poor Brabantio begged to the Duke that his daughter be freed from the Moor’s witchcraft, but the Duke seemed to have been bound under a spell too. By nature ‘tis obvious- this kind of relationship between the Moor and Desdemona - ‘tis unacceptable! But ‘twas a painful sight to watch as the Moor was asked for his say in this, and the robbed Brabantio just stood, incapable of doing anything.

The Moor justified his love story with Desdemona being no witchcraft, but his pitiful past and her pity for him. I must confess, there is no doubt that Othello is capable enough to marry that maiden: he has fought many wars, escaped the cage of cannibals, and been bound by the chains of slavery at youth, which he managed to break apart. His stories of battle are a delight to listen to, but tales remain tales. The truth being, after all, he is just a Moor.

I do not agree with the Duke’s decision. If I were Duke, I would certainly not have let this happen. A marriage between a Moor and a fair maiden of Venice - unquestionable! Impossible! In fact, I would have imprisoned the Moor. His poor behaviour could lead to more young people making this kind of irrational decision and assuming this is acceptable. It is not. Without doubt a father knows his daughter best - a maiden never bold Brabantio said; Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion blushed at herself; and she would fall in love with someone she feared to look upon? The Moor’s words are lies! All lies, I say! But in the chamber, I didn’t say a word. I dare not let my position come in danger for someone else’s daughter. I cannot blame Desdemona for her foolish heart - for falling in love with and marrying the Moor, but also wanting to be alongside him on the voyage to Cyprus, yet I dare to blame Brabantio. The man should have fathered his daughter better. She is disobedient toward her father? And when her husband, a man, tells her to stay behind as he, the man, goes to war, she defies the words of her husband, a man, and pleads to go? Brabantio fathered no maiden, but a young man as I see it! Disobedience doesn’t suit a girl! What was he doing all along when his white ewe was being led astray? Where was he? Not one father is unaware of his daughter leaving the house - let alone falling in love with and marrying a Moor!