Part 30

“You've heard that I have gold,” said Timon.

“There was a report,” said the painter, blushing; “but my friend and I did not come for that.”

“Good honest men!” jeered Timon. “All the same, you shall have plenty of gold if you will rid me of two villains.”

“Name them,” said his two visitors in one breath. “Both of you!” answered Timon. Giving the painter a whack with a big stick, he said, “Put that into your palette and make money out of it.” Then he gave a whack to the poet, and said, “Make a poem out of that and get paid for it. There's gold for you.”

They hurriedly withdrew.

Finally Timon was visited by two senators who, now that Athens was threatened by Alcibiades, desired to have on their side this bitter noble whose gold might help the foe.

“Forget your injuries,” said the first senator. “Athens offers you dignities whereby you may honorably live.”

“Athens confesses that your merit was overlooked, and wishes to atone, and more than atone, for her forgetfulness,” said the second senator.

“Worthy senators,” replied Timon, in his grim way, “I am almost weeping; you touch me so! All I need are the eyes of a woman and the heart of a fool.”

But the senators were patriots. They believed that this bitter man could save Athens, and they would not quarrel with him. “Be our captain,” they said, “and lead Athens against Alcibiades, who threatens to destroy her.”

“Let him destroy the Athenians too, for all I care,” said Timon; and seeing an evil despair in his face, they left him.

The senators returned to Athens, and soon afterwards trumpets were blown before its walls. Upon the walls they stood and listened to Alcibiades, who told them that wrong-doers should quake in their easy chairs. They looked at his confident army, and were convinced that Athens must yield if he assaulted it, therefore they used the voice that strikes deeper than arrows.

“These walls of ours were built by the hands of men who never wronged you, Alcibiades,” said the first senator.

“Enter,” said the second senator, “and slay every tenth man, if your revenge needs human flesh.”

“Spare the cradle,” said the first senator.

“I ask only justice,” said Alcibiades. “If you admit my army, I will inflict the penalty of your own laws upon any soldier who breaks them.”

At that moment a soldier approached Alcibiades, and said, “My noble general, Timon is dead.” He handed Alcibiades a sheet of wax, saying, “He is buried by the sea, on the beach, and over his grave is a stone with letters on it which I cannot read, and therefore I have impressed them on wax.”

Alcibiades read from the sheet of wax this couplet--

“Here lie I, Timon, who, alive, all living men did hate. Pass by and say your worst; but pass, and stay not here your gait.”

“Dead, then, is noble Timon,” said Alcibiades; and be entered Athens with an olive branch instead of a sword.

So it was one of Timon's friends who was generous in a greater matter than Timon's need; yet are the sorrow and rage of Timon remembered as a warning lest another ingratitude should arise to turn love into hate.

OTHELLO

Four hundred years ago there lived in Venice an ensign named Iago, who hated his general, Othello, for not making him a lieutenant. Instead of Iago, who was strongly recommended, Othello had chosen Michael Cassio, whose smooth tongue had helped him to win the heart of Desdemona. Iago had a friend called Roderigo, who supplied him with money and felt he could not be happy unless Desdemona was his wife.

Othello was a Moor, but of so dark a complexion that his enemies called him a Blackamoor. His life had been hard and exciting. He had been vanquished in battle and sold into slavery; and he had been a great traveler and seen men whose shoulders were higher than their heads. Brave as a lion, he had one great fault--jealousy. His love was a terrible selfishness. To love a woman meant with him to possess her as absolutely as he possessed something that did not live and think. The story of Othello is a story of jealousy.

One night Iago told Roderigo that Othello had carried off Desdemona without the knowledge of her father, Brabantio. He persuaded Roderigo to arouse Brabantio, and when that senator appeared Iago told him of Desdemona's elopement in the most unpleasant way. Though he was Othello's officer, he termed him a thief and a Barbary horse.

Brabantio accused Othello before the Duke of Venice of using sorcery to fascinate his daughter, but Othello said that the only sorcery he used was his voice, which told Desdemona his adventures and hair-breadth escapes. Desdemona was led into the council-chamber, and she explained how she could love Othello despite his almost black face by saying, “I saw Othello's visage in his mind.”

As Othello had married Desdemona, and she was glad to be his wife, there was no more to be said against him, especially as the Duke wished him to go to Cyprus to defend it against the Turks. Othello was quite ready to go, and Desdemona, who pleaded to go with him, was permitted to join him at Cyprus.

Othello's feelings on landing in this island were intensely joyful. “Oh, my sweet,” he said to Desdemona, who arrived with Iago, his wife, and Roderigo before him, “I hardly know what I say to you. I am in love with my own happiness.”