The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-06-09

"Wben the signal was given, she left
me very quickly in order to attire herself
properly for the deathascene, and in her
haste changed both our roles. OBJ
served the mistake, and would rectify it.
but piece of, paper which fell (out Of
her manuscript held me back. Il picked
it off the floor, and threw u hasty glance
| at the. to me, strange handwriting. 4
fearful suspicion pierced through my
soul. 1 rend the open letter. Now I
could no longer doubt the unfaithfulness
of my affianced. She had deceived me
in the most shameless manner, and was
expecting q well-known Infamous fellow
to meet her at an appointed rendezvous
after the theatre was over.
81 can hardly describe my thoughts
The Moor's nature seized me. Revenge
was my uppermost thought, and I felt
that I could act the Moor's part now,
perfectly. The thought came to take
deep, certain revenge upon the shame
less being, and with this feeling 1 step
ped upon the stage for the final act. 1
uttered the fearful monologue Of Othel-
and hardly heard the rapturous applause
that fell. Indeed, L heard nothing; n
bloody mist lowered before my eyes; my
brain was fired. and 1 know neither what
I would say or what would do. I ap-
preached the bed.
81 sec that beautiful form still, an en-
bodied ideal of all beauty and loveliness;
she reolined comfortably upon silk
cushion. A nature so glorious and en-
chanting it was, as God could only once
make SO beautiful, I thought. But my
passion now swayed my reason. I had
no longer control over my actions.
.''Tho view of the unfaithful one iu-
famed mo anew, and unconsciously 1
clutched my dagger, which was no COM
mon theatrical one. Mechanically 1
closed the curtains after me, in order
that the public might not see the horrid
tragedy. was. alone with her, and no.
thing hindered me in carrying out my
design. had already seized the sharp
weapon, neared the couch, and lifted up
my arm to strike tho murderous blow,
but felt it suddenly arrested. Before
me stood my true friend, the manager,
who snatched quickly away the dagger
from my uplifted hand before Desdemo-
ma, or rather Augusta, had PRESENT.,
ment of her threatened fate. He had
observed mo narrowly, my altered mien,
my sudden passion, my unusual wild
ness-the change in my acting had been
Ny lhS ApCiiCuCCo htll. ne
had sympathizingly followed my move
ments, and rs I drew my dagger in order
to stab Desdemona before the time writ
ten by the dramatist, he believed that it
was a mistake on my part, and therefore
he sprang to hinder me from q supposed
failure. He little thought that his un-
expected appearance between us saved
me from becoming criminal, and, per-
haps, saved me from the scaffold."
''And what of Auguste? Where is
she?" asked.
''She went, like many others, to ruin
Her moral power totally failed; she sank
deeper and deeper, and ut last, in conse-
quence of her irregular life, died con
sumptive. [ never saw her afterwards
and 1 do not think she ever knew the
danger to which she was once exposed
My only revenge consisted in sending
the letter with my card to her the follow
ing morning. My love was cured, but
at the cost of my dearest hopes and my
most beautiful illusions. Othello is still
my favorite role. I love it as q mother
loves her child. Ny misfortune deve-
loped my talents, and through Othelo I
became an actor. AS often as play that
part, however, am seized with the old
feelings. The picture of that fearful
evening stands before my soul. I feel
the same inspiration of that dread jea-
lousy, and the curtain falls amid glo-
rions, rapturous applause.