Little else remains to be told in this tragic tale of a passionate but deadly love affair between a beautiful butterfly and a so-called but not so mysterious “moth”. Moments later, Lodovico landed back in Venus and relayed the story of what Mothello had done. With the lovers’ deaths, the war between the red ants and the butterflies flared up again. Back on Mar, just before dawn the next day, the island slipped beneath the surface of the river, and all evidence that this tragedy had ever taken place was washed away for ever.

At the end of the day, just as a flame is not the sun, a lie will never be the truth. Clearly, Mothello was more than just “the Moth” before the infamous Imago came along. Without a doubt, he was much much more. But that’s not the whole story. To fully understand Mothello, we have to understand that he wasn’t simply an innocent victim. As he increasingly bumped up against Imago’s lies, like a moth to the flame, he allowed himself to become a victim. In a sense, he became just like Imago, turning into his own worst enemy. He started to doubt himself and soon came to believe there really was a big difference between himself and the other butterflies. But it’s only those who feel bad about themselves who see differences like these. Naturally, everyone’s different, but the only important difference is between those who are like Imago and those who are like Desdemona.

“It will come out, it will come out,” Emilia cried just before her death. Naturally, there will be those who don’t want to hear it, but the truth must be told once and for all: Mothello was a butterfly. In fact, he and the other butterflies were members of the second largest insect order in the world, what was known as the Lepidoptera, a Latin word meaning “scale-wing.”

After the tragedy, however, the word “moth” became so distasteful to the butterfly tongue moths and butterflies really did become two separate species. Butterflies remained day creatures, and moths became creatures of the night.

But why? Simply because of the color of one’s scales? A difference in the quality of light? What’s the difference? Essentially it’s the same thing, right? We’re all part of one great big sloppy earthbound family, and that’s the real truth. So in the future, take heed: the next time you see a moth aimlessly bumping up against a light bulb, remember Mothello and always believe in yourself.

© Phakespeare Productions, 2009