Olympus high; and duck again as low 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. 21 3512 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: 1 Oh Tupiter! Now is the time that I could gladly yield to death; 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 page173) yet I am perfuaded Shakespear gave us wretch, and Mr. Upton's remark seems very just 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 my And when I told thee, he was of counsel, Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me 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, REPUTATION. Good name in man and woman, dear my Is the immediate jewel of their fouls; (7) Who fteals my purse steals trash, 'tis fomething, nothing; lord, 'Twas (7) Who, &c.] Mr. Theobald obferves, "Of riches, and other temporal poffeffions being uncertain, and often changing their mafters, we meet with several paffages in the claffics, which might have given our author a hint for this fentiment. Nunc ager, &c. That which was once Ofellus farm is gone, This Lucian feems to have imitated in an epigram: Αγρόν Αχαιμενιδες σε *16 HOR. Sat. 2. 1. 2. 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been flaves to thousands; 要事项 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, SCENE VII. JEALOUSY 1 I once was Achaemenides his land, And now Menippus claims me for his own, Nor this, nor that mans; I belong to none, (8) If, &c.] All the metaphor here is taken from falconry, and most beautifully kept up. SCENE 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; Ifwear '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 slept 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, Oth. I had been happy, if the general camp, (9) See vol. 1. p. 6. note 8. Th, Th' immortal Jove's dread clamours, counterfeit, 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 him] Or by the worth of mine eternal foul, 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 dost slander her, and torture me, Never pray more; abandon all remorfe ; On horrors head, horrors accumulate, Do deeds to make heav'n weep, all earth amaz'd; Iago. 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 monstrous world! take note, take note, O world, To be direct and honeft, is not safe. I thank you for this profit, and from hence I'll love no friend, fith love breeds fuch offence. Oth. By the world, I think my wife is honest, and think he is not As |