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Be not afraid, though you do see me weapon’d;
Enter Lodovico, Montano, Cassio, carried in a
Chair, and Officers, with Iago, prisoner. Lod. Where is this rash and most unfortunate
man? Oth. That's he, that was Othello; here I am. Lod. Where is that viper? bring the villain forth. Oth. I look down towards his feet;"_but that's
a fable: If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee.
(Othello wounds Iago. Lod. Wrench his sword from him. Iago.
I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. Oth. I am not sorry neither; I'd have thee live; For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.
Lod. O'thou Othello, that was once so good,
towards his feet;] To see if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven.
Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave,
Why, any thing:
Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd his villainy: Did you and he consent in Cassio's death?
Oih. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon.
Iugo. Demand me nothing: What you know,
From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lod. What? not to pray?
Torments will ope your lips. Oth. Well, thou dost best.
Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n,
Oth. O villain!
Most heathenish, and most gross!
O the pernicious caitiff ! How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief That was my wife's? Cas.
I found it in my chamber:
in the practice - In the snare, by the stratagem.
And he himself confess’d, but even now,
O fool! fool! fool!
US;. Your power
and your command is taken off, And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,-If there be any cunning cruelty, That can torment him much, and hold him long, It shall be his: You shall close prisoner rest, Till that the nature of your fault be known To the Venetian state:-Come, bring him away.
Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know
it ; No more of that:--I
your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well; Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Perplex'd in the extreme; of one, whose hand, Like the base Júdean, threw a pearl away, Richer than all his tribe;" of one, whose subdu'd
of one, whose hand,
Richer than all his tribe ;] The commentators are al variance en this passage, sone considering it as an allusion to the story Herod and Mariamne, and others to that of a Jew who threw away VOL. IX.
Albeit unused to the melting mood,
[Štabs himself Lod. O bloody period ! Gra.
All, that's spoke, is marr’d. Oth. I kiss'd thee, ere I kill'd thee;--No way but
this, [Falling upon DesdemONA. Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
[Dies. Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no
weapon; For he was great of heart. Lod.
O Spartan dog, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea! Look on the tragick loading of this bed;
a pearl of great worth, because he could not get his price for it. We shall subjoin a remark of Mr. Steevens, which vindicates the propriety of an edition like the present.
Either we are partial to discoveries which we make for ourselves, or the spirit of controversy is contagious; for it usually happens that each possessor of an ancient copy of our author is led to assert the superiority of all such readings as have not been exhibited in the notes, or received into the text of the last edition. On this account, our present republication * (and inore especially in the celebrated plays) affords a greater number of these diverșities than were ever before obtruded on the publick. A time however may arrive, when a complete body of variations being printed, our readers may luxuriate in an ample feast of thats and whiches; and thenceforward it may be prophecied, that all will unite in a wish that the selection had been made by an editor, rather than submitted to their own labour and sagacity.
$ 0 Spartan dog,] The dogs of Spartan race were reckoned among those of the most fierce and savage kind.
The Edition of 1803 in 21 volumes.
This is thy work: the object poisons sight;-
the censure-] i. e. the sentence. 1 The beauties of this play impress themselves so strongly upon the attention of the reader, that they can draw no aid from critical illustration. The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affection, inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate in his revenge; the cool malignity of Iago, silent in his resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his interest and his vengeance; the soft simplicity of Desdemona, confident of merit, and conscious of innocence, her artless perseverance in her suit, and her slowness to suspect that she can be suspected, are such proofs of Shakspeare's skill in human nature, as, I suppose, it is vain to seek in any modern writer. The gradual progress which Iago makes in the Moor's conviction, and the circumstances which he employs to enflame him, are so artfully natural, that, though it will perhaps not be said of him as he says of himself, that he is a man not easily jealous, yet we cannot but pity him, when at last we find him perplexed in the extreme.
There is always danger, lest wickedness, conjoined with abilities, should steal upon esteem, though it misses of approbation; but the character of Iago is so conducted, that he is from the first scene to the last hated and despised.
Even the inferior characters of this play would be very conspicuous in any other piece, not only for their justness, but their strength. Cassio is brave, benevolent, and honest, ruined only by his want of stubbornness to resist an insidious invitation. Roderigo's suspicious credulity, and impatient submission to the cheats which he sees practised upon him, and which by persuasion he suffers to be repeated, exhibit a strong picture of a weak mind betrayed by unlawful desires to a false friend; and the virtue of Emilia is such as we often find, worn loosely, but not cast off, easy to commit small crimes, but quickened and alarmed at atrocious villainies.
The scenes from the beginning to the end are busy, varied by happy interchanges, and regularly promoting the progression o