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Emil. Oh heaven! oh heavenly powers!
Iago. Come, hold your peace.

· Emil. "Twill out, 'twill out :—I hold my peace ? Sir! no!

No, I will speak as liberal 9 as the north;

Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all,
All, all cry fhame against me, yet I'll speak.
Iago. Be wife, and get you home.

Emil. I will not. [Iago offers to fab his wife.
Gra. Fie! your fword upon a woman?

Emil. Oh, thou dull Moor! That handkerchief,
thou speak'ft of,

I found by fortune, and did give my husband;
For often, with a folemn earneftnefs,

(More than, indeed, belong'd to fuch a trifle)
He begg'd of me to steal it.

Iago. Villainous whore!

Emil. She give it Caffio!-alas, I found it, And I did give it my husband.

Iago. Filth, thou lieft.

Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen. Oh murd'rous coxcomb! what fhould fuch a fool Do with fo good a wife?

[Iago ftabs his wife, then runs out. Oth. Are there no ftones in heaven,

1

But what ferve for the thunder?-Precious villain!

And here he fays,

It was an bandkerchief,

My father gave my mother.

This laft paffage has been cenfured as an overfight in the poet; but perhaps it exhibits only a fresh proof of his art. The firft account of the handkerchief, as given by Othello, was purpofely oftentatious, in order to alarm his wife the more. When he mentions it a fecond time, the truth was fufficient for his purpose.

This circumftance of the handkerchief is ridiculed by B. Jonfon, in his Poet after you fhall fee me do the Meer;

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mafter, lend me your scarf." STEEVENS.

-as the north ;] The old quarto reads,

I'll be in speaking liberal as the air. STEEVENS.

Are there no ftones in heaven,

BUT WHAT SERVE FOR the thunder -] What occafion for

other,

: Gra. The woman falls; fure, he has kill'd his

wife.

Emil. Ay, ay: oh, lay me by my mistress' fide. Gra. He's gone; but his wife's kill'd.

Mon. 'Tis a notorious villain. Take this weapon,
Which I have here recover'd from the Moor:
Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,
But kill him rather. I'll after that fame villain,
For 'tis a damned flave. [Exeunt Mon. and Gra.
Oth. I am not valiant neither;

But every puny whipfter gets my fword.
But why should honour out-live honesty?
Let it go all.

[Æmil. What did thy fong bode, lady?

Hark, can't thou hear me? I will play the fwan,
And die in mufick.] Willow, willow, willow.

other, when thofe would ferve his purpofe? For he wanted a thunderbolt for Iago. Without queftion, Shakespeare wrote and pointed the line thus:

Are there no ftones in heaven?

FOR WHAT THEN SERVES the thunder ?—

i. e. Are there no bolts in heaven for this villain? for what purpose then ferves the thunder, that inftrument of his vengeance? WARBURTON.

Are there no ftones in heaven,

But what ferve for the thunder?-] This emendation of Dr. Warburton's is furely unneceffary.

Othello does not want a thunderbolt for Iago. He only afks, if there are no leffer degrees of chaftifement more pro'portioned to the guilt of mortals, ready to drop down on fuch villains as Iago, though Omnipotence withholds its thunder, as too noble an inftrument for the punishment of crimes like his?

The fame thought occurs in The Revenger's Tragedy, 1609. "Is there no thunder left? or is't kept up

"In ftock, for heavier vengeance ?"

Shakespeare might however mean, does heaven referve its thunder only to make a noife? has it no implements of mischief to punish as well as terrify?

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-quum fulmina torques

"Necquicquam horremus? cæciq; in nubibus ignes.
"Terrificant animos, et inania murmura mifcent?"

STEEVENS.

Moor,

Moor, fhe was chafte; fhe lov'd thee, cruel Moor:
So come my foul to blifs, as I speak true;
So fpeaking as I think, I die-I die.

[Emilia dies.
Oth. I have another weapon in this chamber;
It was a fword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper;
Oh, here it is.Uncle, I must come forth.

Gra. [within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear;

Thou haft no weapon, and perforce must suffer.
Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me,
Or, naked as I am, I will affault thee.

Re-enter Gratiano.

Gra. What is the matter?

Oth. Behold! I have a weapon:
A better never did itself fuftain

Upon a foldier's thigh. I have feen the day,
That, with this little arm, and this good fword,
I have made my way through more impediments
Than twenty times your ftop :-but, oh vain boast!
Who can controul his fate? 'tis not fo now.
[Be not afraid, though you do fee me weapon'd;
Here is my journey's end, here is my butt,
The very fea-mark of my utmost fail.
Do you go back difmay'd? 'tis a loft fear:
Man but a rush against Othello's breast,
And he retires.-Where fhould Othello go?
Now how doft thou look now? oh ill-ftarr'd
wench!]

Pale as thy fmock! When we shall meet at compt,

2 —the ice-brook's temper ;] In the firft edition it is, Ifebroke's temper. Thence corrupted to Ice-brook's.-Ebro's temper; the waters of that river of Spain are particularly famous for tempering of fteel. The finest arms in the world are the Catalonian fufees. POPE.

I believe the old reading changed to ice-brook is right. Steel is hardened by being put red hot into very cold water.

JOHNSON.

This look of thine will hurl my foul from heaven,
And fiends will fnatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl?---
Even like thy chastity.

O curfed, curfed flave!-Whip me, ye devils,
From the poffeffion of this heavenly fight!
Blow me about in winds! roaft me in fulphur !
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!
Oh Defdemona! Defdemona! dead!

Dead! oh! oh! oh!

Enter Lodovico, Caffio brought in, Montano with Iago prifoner, and Officers.

Lod. Where is this rafh and moft 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 3 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 fword from him.

Oth. I am not forry, neither. I'd have thee live; For, in my sense, 'tis happiness to die.

Lod. Oh thou, Othello, that waft once so good, Fall'n in the practice of a cursed slave, What shall be faid to thee?

Oth. Why, any thing:

An honourable murderer, if

you

will;

For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.

Lod. This wretch hath part confefs'd his villainy. Did you and he confent in Caffio's death?

3

Oth. Ay.

Caf. Dear general, I never gave you cause.
Oth. I do believe it, and I afk your pardon.

towards his feet ;-] To fee if, according to the com

mon opinion, his feet be cloven. JOHNSON.

4

+ in the practice-] In the fnare, by the ftratagem.

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JOHNSON.

Will

Will you, I pray, demand that demy-devil,
Why he hath thus enfnar'd my foul and body?

Icgo. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.

From this time forth I never will speak word.
Lod. What? not to pray?

Gra. Torments will ope your lips.

Oth. Well, thou doft beft.

Lod. Sir, you fhall understand what hath befall'n, Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter, Found in the pocket of the flain Roderigo ; And here another: the one of them imports The death of Caffio to be undertook

By Roderigo.

Oth. Oh villain!

Caf. Most heathenifh, and most gross!

Lod. Now, here's another difcontented paper,
Found in his pocket too: and this, it feems,
Roderigo meant to have fent this damned villain;
But that, belike, Iago in the interim
Came in and fatisfied him.

Oth. O thou pernicious caitiff!

How came you, Caffio, by that handkerchief
That was my wife's?

Caf. I found it in my chamber:

And he himself confefs'd, but even now,
That there he dropp'd it, for a fpecial purpose,
Which wrought to his defire.

Oth. Oh fool, fool, fool!

Caf. There is, befides, in Roderigo's letter,
How he upbraids Iago that he made him
Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came
That I was caft. And even but now, he fpake,
After long feeming dead, Iago hurt him,
Iago fet him on.

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in the interim] The first copy has, in the nick. It was, I fuppofe, thought upon revifal, that nick was too familiar. JOHNSON.

Lod.

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