Oth. Hath he faid any thing? lago. He hath, my Lord; but be you well affur'd, No more than he'll unfwear. Oth. What hath he said? lago. Why, that he did, he did Oth. What? what? lago. Lie Oth. With her ? what Jago. With her; on her when they belie her. handkerchief I know not what you will We fay, lie on her, Lie with her! that's fulfome. confeffions handkerchief · [ (9) to confefs, and be hang'd for his labour Firft, to be bang'd, and then to confefs-] Nature would not inveft herself in 1 tremble at it fuch * Shadowing passion (1) without fome inftruction. It is not words that shake me thus lips-is't poffible! confefs! devil nofes, ears, and bandkerchief! - ob [Falls in a trance. Iago. her own fondness they make her pliant to their defires, cannot help boafting of their fuccefs. To convince, here, is not, as in the common acceptation, to make sensible of the truth of any thing by reafons and arguments; but to overcome, get the better of, &c. Convinc'd THEOBALD. -] Convinc'd, for conquer'd, fubdued. WARB. (9) to confefs, &c.] The words between the hooks feem to be the player's trash. WARBURTON. I have as little value for thefe words as any other commentator; but whether they are the authour's or player's I cannot determine. * Shadowing paffion] The modern editions have left out passion. (1) without fome inftruction.] The starts and broken reflexions in this fpeech have fomething very terrible, and fhew the mind of the speaker to be in inexpreffible agonies. But the words we are upon, when fet right, have a fublime in them that can never be enough admired. The ridiculous blunder of writing INSTRUC TION for INDUCTION (for fo it fhould be read) has indeed funk it into arrant nonfenfe. Othello is just going to fall into a fwoon; and, as is common for people in that circumftance, feels an uaufual mift and darkness, accompanied with horror, coming upon him. This, with vaft fublimity of thought, is compared to the feafon of the Sun's eclipfe, at which time the earth becomes fhadowed by the induction or bringing over of the Moon between it R 2 and lago. Work on, My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught; All guiltlefs, meet reproach. What hoa! my Lord! SCENE II. Enter Caffio. How now, Caffio? Caf. What's the matter? and the Sun. This being the allufion the reasoning stands thus, My nature could never be thus overshadowed, and falling, as it were, into diffolution for no cause. There must be an INDUCTION of fomething: there must be a real caufe. My jealousy cannot be merely imaginary. Ideas, WORDS only, could not shake me thus, and raise all this diforder. My jealousy therefore must be grounded on matter of fact. Shakespeare uses this word in the fame fenfe, Richard III. A dire INDUCTION am I witness to. Marfor feems to have read it thus in some copy, and to allude to it in these words of his Fame, Plots ba' you laid INDUCTIONS dangerous ! WARBURTON. This is a noble conjecture, and whether right or wrong-does honour to its authour. Yet I am in doubt whether there is any neceffity of emendation. There has always prevailed in the world an opinion, that when any great calamity happens at a distance, notice is given of it to the fufferer by fome dejection or perturbation of mind, of which he discovers no external cause. This is afcribed to that general communication of one part of the uni verfe with another, which is called fympathy and antipathy; or to the fecret monition, inftruction, and influence of a fuperior Being, which fuperintends the order of Nature and of life. Othello fays, Nature could not inveft berself in such shadowing paffion, without inftruction. It is not words that shake me thus. This paffion which spreads its clouds over me is the effect of fome agency more than the operation of words; it is one of thofe notices which meh have of unfeen calamities. However ingenious Dr. Warburton's note may be, it is certainly too forced and farfetch'd. Orbello alludes only to Caffio's dream, which had been invented and told him by Iago, when many confufed and very interefting ideas pour in upon the mind all at once, and with fuch rapidity, that it has not time to shape or digeft them, if the mind does not relieve itself by tears, which we know it often does, whether for joy or grief, it produces ftupefaction and fainting. Othello, in broken fentences and fingle words, all of which have a reference to the caufe of his jealoufy, fhews, that all the proofs are prefent at once to his mind, which fo overpowers it, that he falls in a trance, the natural confequence. Mr. REYNOLDS. lago. My Lord is fall'n into an Epilepfy. The lethargy must have his quiet course : He will recover ftraight; when he is gone, I would on great occafion speak with you. [Exit Caffio. How is it, General? have you not hurt your head? Oth. Doft thou mock me? lago. I mock you not, by heaven; Would you would bear your fortunes like a man. Oth. A horned man's a monfter, and a beast. lago. There's many a beaft, then, in a populous city, And many a civil monster. Oth. Did he confefs it? lago. Good Sir, be a man ; Think, every bearded fellow that's but yok'd, That nightly lie (2) in those unproper beds, Which they dare fwear peculiar. Your cafe is better. And to fuppofe her chafte. No, let me know, lago. Stand you a while apart, Confine yourself but in a patient (3) lift. Whilft you were here, o'erwhelmed with your grief, Caffio came hither. I fhifted him away, Bad him anon return, and here fpeak with me; (2) (3) (4) in thofe unproper beds,] Unproper, for common. WARBURTON. lift] For attention; act of liftening. That dwell in every region of his face; I fay, but mark his gefture. Marry, patience; (5) Or I fhall fay, you are all in all in fpleen, And nothing of a man. Oth. Doft thou hear, ago? I will be found moft cunning in my patience; Iago. That's not amifs; But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw? [Othello withdraws. Now will I queftion Caffio of Bianca, A housewife, that by felling her defires, Buys herself bread and cloth. It is a creature, SCENE III. Enter Caffio. As he fhall fmile, Othello fhall go mad ; lago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are fure on't. Now, if this fuit lay in Bianca's power, How quickly fhould you speed? Caf. Alas, poor caitiff! [Speaking lower. (5) Or Ifball fay, you are all in all in fpleen,] I read, Or fhall I fay, you're all in all a spleen. I think our authour ufes this expreffion elsewhere. (6) And bis unbookish jealousy -] Unbookish, for ignorant. WARBURTON. Oth. Oth. Look how he laughs already. Jago. I never knew a woman love man fo. [Afide. Caf. Alas, poor rogue, I think, indeed, the loves me. Oth. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs out. [Afide. lago. Do you hear, Caffio ? Oth. Now he importunes him To tell it o'er. Go to, well faid, well faid. [Afide. lago. She gives it out, that you shall marry her. Do you intend it ? Caf. Ha, ha, ha! Oth. (7) Do you triumph, Roman, do you triumph? Caf. I marry her! [Afide. What? (8) a customer? pr'ythee, bear fome charity to my wit, do not think it fo unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha! Oth. So, fo; they laugh, that win. [Afide. lago. Why, the Cry goes, that you shall marry her. Caf. Pr'ythee, fay true. lago. I am a very villain elfe. Oth. (9) Have you fcor'd me? well. [Afide. Caf. This is the monkey's own giving out the is perfuaded, I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, not out of my promife. Oth. lago beckons me: now he begins the story. [Afide. Caf. She was here even now: fhe haunts me in every place. I was the other day talking on the Sea bank with certain Venetians, and thither comes the bauble, and falls me thus about the neck (7) Do you triumph, ROMAN? do you triumph? Never was a more ridiculous blunder than the word Roman. Shakespeare wrote, Do you triumph, ROGUE? Which being obfcurely written the editors miftook for Rome, and fo made Roman of jt. WARBURTON D Of this I am in doubt. Othello calls him Roman ironically. Triumph, which was a Roman ceremony, brought Roman into his thoughts. What, says he, you are now triumphing as great as a Roman. (8) vites custom. a customer ? -] a common woman, one that in (9) Have you for'd me?] Have you made my reckoning, have you fettled the term of my life? The old quarto reads, fored me. Have you difpofed of me? have you laid me up? R 4 Oth. |