Puslapio vaizdai
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Olympus high; and duck again as low

As hell's from heaven. If I were now to die,
"Twere now to be most happy; for I fear
My foul hath her content fo abfolute,
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.

ACT III. SCENE V.

A Lover's Exclamation.

(6) Excellent wretch! perdition catch my foul, But I do love thee, and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

Othello's firft Sufpicion.

Think, my lord! why, by heaven, thou echo'ft me; As if there were fome monfler in thy thought Too hideous to be fhewn. Thou doft mean fomething: I heard thee fay but now, When Caffio left my wife.

Oh Tupiter!

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thou lik’st not that.
What did ft not like?"

Now is the time that I could gladly yield to death;
Left life with fome affliction should. pollute

My heart's content.

G. E.

(6) Wretch] This word is found in all the copies; but nevertheless Mr. Theobald and the Oxford editor read wench, which tho' doubtlefs it was "not formerly used in the low and vulgar acceptation it is at prefent," (fee pager73) yet I am perfuaded Shakespear gave us wretch, and Mr. Upton's remark feems very juft and beautiful: fpeaking of Defdemona's name, which is deriv'd from Avoda, i. e. the unfortunate; he fays, "and I make no queftion, but Othello, in his rapturous admira tion, with fome allufion to her name exclaims, Excellent wretch,"

&c.

The antient tragedians are full of thefe allufions; fome inftances I have mention'd above: this rapturous exclamation and allufion too has fomething ominous in it; and inftances of these prefaging and ominous expreffions our poet is full of." See Critical Obfervations, p. 303.

And

And when I told thee, he was of my counsel,

Of my whole courfe of wooing; thou cried'ft, indeed?
And did'ft contract and purfe thy brow together;

As if thou then had'ft shut up in thy brain

Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me

Shew me thy thought.

Iago. My lord, you know I love you.

Oth. I think thou doft:

And for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty,

And weigh'ft thy words before thou giv'ft them breath,
Therefore these ftops of thine fright me the more:
For fuch things, in a false disloyal knave,
Are tricks of cuftom; but in a man that's just,
They're cold dilations working from the heart,
That paffion cannot rule.

REPUTATION.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their fouls;

(7) Who fteals my purfe fteals trafh, 'tis fomething,

nothing:

'Twas

(7) Who, &c.] Mr. Theobald obferves, "Of riches, and other temporal poffeffions being uncertain, and often changing their mafters, we meet with feveral paffages in the claffics, which might have given our author a hint for this fentiment.

Nunc ager, &c.

HOR. Sat. 2. 1. 2.

That which was once Ofellus farm is gone,
Now call'd Umbrina's, but 'tis no man's own ;
None hath the property: it comes and goes,
As merry chance or ftubborn fates difpofe :
As gods think fit, and their firm nods decree,
Now to be us'd by others, then by me,

This Lucian feems to have imitated in an epigram:
Aye Axaipende, &c.

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'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flaves to thoufands; But he that filches from me my good name,

Robs me of that, which not enriches him,

And makes me poor indeed.

SCENE VI. Othello's Soliloquy after having been work'd up to Jealousy, by Iago.

This fellow's of exceeding honefty,"

And knows all qualities with a learned spirit,
Of human dealings. (8) If I prove her haggard,
Though that her jeffes were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I'm black,
And have not thofe foft parts of conversation,
That chamberers have; or for I am déclin'd
Into the vale of years, yet that's not much-
She's gone, I am abus'd, and my relief
Muft be to loath her. Oh, the curfe of marriage!
That we can call these delicate creatures ours.
And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
And live upon-the vapour of a dungeon,

Than keep a corner in the thing I love,
For others ufes.

SCENE VII. JEALOUSY
Trifles light as air,

Are to the jealous, confirmations strong,
As proofs of holy writ.

I once was Achæmenides his land,

And now Menippus claims me for his own,
Thus pass I still from one to t'others hand;
Nor this, nor that mans; I belong to none,
But change as fortune pleases to command.

(8) If, &c.] All the metaphor here is taken from falconry,

and most beautifully kept up.

SCENE

SCENE VIII The Tortures of Jealousy.

Enter Othello.

lago. Look, where he comes! not poppy, nor mandragora,

Nor all the droufy fyrups of the world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, (9) Which thou ow'dft yesterday.

Oth. Ha! falfe to me!

Iago. Why, how now, general, no more of that.

Oth. Avant, be gone; thou haft fet me on the wreck;

I fwear 'tis better to be much abus'd,

Than but to know a little.

Iago. How, my lord.

Oth. What fenfe had I, of her ftol'n hours of luft? I faw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me:

I flept the next night well, fed well, was free and merry,

I found not Caffio's kiffes on her lips;

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is ftol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.
Iago. I am forry to hear this..

Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp,
Pioneers and all, had tasted her sweet body,
So I had nothing known.

Farewel the tranquil mind.

Farewel the plumed troops,

Oh now, for ever

Farewel content; and the big war,

That make ambition virtue! Oh farewel,

Farewel the neighing fteed, and the shrill trump,
The fpirit-ftirring drum, th' ear piercing fife,
The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war:
And O you mortal engines, whofe rude throats
(9) See vol. 1. p. 6. note 8.

Th,

Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewel! Othello's occupation's gone.

lago. Is't poffible, my Lord ?

Oth. Villain, be fure thou prove my love a whore;

Be fure of it give me the ocular proof,

[Catching hold on bim]

Or by the worth of mine eternal foul,

Thou hadft been better have been born a dog,.
Than answer my wak'd wrath.

Jago. Is't come to this?

Oth. Make me to fee't, or, at the leaft, fo prove it, That the probation bear no hinge, nor loop,

To hang a doubt on: or woe upon thy life.

Iago. My noble lord.

Oth. If thou doft flander her, and torture me, Never pray more; abandon all remorse;

On horrors head, horrors accumulate,

Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd;
For nothing canft thou to damnation add,

Greater than that.

lago. O grace! O heav'n forgive me!

Are you a man? have you a foul? or sense?

God be wi' you take mine office. O wretched fool, That liv'ft to make thine honefty a vice!

Oh monftrous world! take note, take note, O world, To be direct and honest, is not safe.

I thank you for this profit, and from hence

I'll love no friend, fith love breeds fuch offence.
Oth. Nay, ftay-thou fhould't be honeft.-
Iago. I fhould be wife, for honesty's a fool,
And lofes that it works for.

Oth. By the world,

I think my wife is honeft, and think he is not;
I think that thou art juft, and think thou art not;
I'll have fome proof. Her name that was as fresh

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