It is the caufe!-Yet I'll not fhed her blood; [Takes off bis fword. Yet fhe muft die, elfe fhe'll betray more men. 5 Put out the light, and, then-Put out the light! If I quench thee, thou flaming minifter, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, When I have pluck'd 6 thy rose, I cannot give it vital growth again; It needs muft wither.I'll fmell it on the tree; Juftice to break her fword!-One more, one more. 5 Put out the light, and, then-Put out the light!] So it fhould be printed. The meaning is, I will put out the light, and then proceed to the execution of my purpofe. But the expreffion of putting out the light, bringing to mind the effects of the extinction of the light of life, he breaks fhort, and queftions himself about the effects of this metaphorical extinction, introduced by a repetition of his first words, as much as to fay, But hold, let me firft weigh the reflections which this expreffion fo naturally excites. WARBURTON. thy rofe,] Thus the folio. The quarto reads, Again, the quarto reads, The folio, "I'll fmell it on the tree." "I'll fmell thee on the tree." STEEVENS. -This forrow's heavenly ;] This tenderness, with which I lament the punishment which juftice compels me to inflict, is a holy paffion. I with these two lines could be honeftly ejected. It is the fate of Shakespeare to counteract his own pathos. JoHNSON. Def. Who's there? Othello? Oth. Ay, Desdemona. Def. Will you come to bed, my lord? Oth. Have you pray'd to-night, Desdemona ? Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime Def. Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that? Oth. Well, do it, and be brief. I will walk by. I would not kill thy unprepared fpirit; No-heavens forefend! I would not kill thy foul. Def. Talk you of killing? Oth. Ay, I do. Def. Then heaven have mercy on me! Oth. Amen, with all my heart. Def. If you fay fo, I hope you will not kill me. Def. And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then, When your eyes roll fo. Why I should fear, I know not, Since guilt I know not; but yet, I feel, I fear. Oth. Think on thy fins. Def. They are loves I bear to you. Oth. Ay, and for that thou dy'st. Def. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you fo your nether lip? Some bloody paffion fhakes your very frame: They do not point on me. Oth. Peace, and be still! Def. I will fo. What's the matter? Which I fo lov'd, and gave thee, thou gav'ft Caffio. Oth. Sweet foul, take heed, take heed of perjury; Thou art on thy death-bed. Ii3 Def. Def. Ay, but not yet to die. Therefore confefs thee freely of thy fin; Cannot remove, nor choak, the ftrong conception Def. And have you mercy too!--I never did Def. He found it then; I never gave it him :-fend for him hither, Oth. He hath confefs'd. Def. What, my lord? Oth. That he hath-us'd thee, Def. How? unlawfully? Oth. Ay. Def. He will not fay fo.. Oth. No, his mouth is stopp'd. Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't, A murder, which I thought a facrifice.] This line is diffi cult. Thou haft hardened my heart, and makeft me kill thee with the rage of a murderer, when I thought to have facrificed thee to juftice with the calmnefs of a prieit ftriking a victim. It must not be omitted, that one of the elder quartos reads, thou doft ftone thy heart; which I fufpect to be genuine. The meaning then will be, thou forceft me to difmifs thee from the world in the fate of the murdered without preparation for death, when I intended that thy punishment fhould have been a facrifice atoning for thy crime." I am glad that I have ended my revifal of this dreadful fcene, It is not to be endured. JOHNSON. Def. Def. My fear interprets then.-What, is he dead? Oth. 9 Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge Had ftomach for them all. Def. Alas, he is betray'd, and I undone. Oth. Out, ftrumpet! Weep'ft thou for him to my face? Def. Oh banish me, my lord, but kill me not. Def. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night. Def. But half an hour. Oth. Being done, there is no paufe. Def. But while I say one prayer. Oth. It is too late. [He fmothers her. Emilia without the door. Emil. My lord, my lord! What ho! my lord, my lord! Oth. What noife is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead? I, that am cruel, am yet merciful; I would not have thee linger in thy pain. So, fo. 9 Had all his hairs been lives,] This thought appears to have been very common, as it occurs frequently in dramatic performances prior to Shakespeare's Othello. So in the Devil's Charter, by Barnaby Barnes, 1607. "Know Cæfar, had I now as many lives "As there are ftones, or hairs upon my head, It is too late.] After this fpeech of Othels, the elder quarto adds an invocation from Defdemona, confifting only of a facred name, thrice repeated. As this must be fuppofed to. have been uttered while the is yet ftruggling with death, I think an editor may fairly be excufed from inferting fuch a circumftance of fupererogatory horror, efpecially as it is found in but one of the old copies. STEEVENS. This alteration was probably made by the author, in confequence of a ftatute of the 21ft of James I. to reform prophana eurfing and fwearing. HAWKINS. Ii4 Emil. Emil. within.] What ho! my lord, my lord! Emil. Oh, my good lord, I would speak a word with you. Oth. Yes-'tis Æmilia.-By and by.—She's dead. 'Tis like, fhe comes to speak of Caffio's death; The noife was high. Ha! no more moving? Still as the grave.-Shall fhe come in? Were't good? I think, fhe ftirs again.-No. What's the best? If the come in, fhe'll, fure, fpeak to my wife: My wife! my wife! What wife? I have no wife. Oh infupportable! oh heavy hour! Methinks it fhould be now a huge eclipfe Of fun and moon, and that the affrighted globe Emil. I do befeech Oh, good my lord! you, I may speak with you. Oth. I had forgot thee; oh, come in, Æmilia. Soft.-By and by.-Let me the curtains draw. Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now? Enter Emilia. [Unlocks the door. Emil. Oh, my good lord, yonder foul murder's done. Oth. What? now? Emil, But now, my lord? Oth. It is the very error of the moon; She comes more near the earth than she was wont, And makes men mad. Emil. Caffio, my lord, hath kill'd A young Venetian, called Roderigo. Oth. Roderigo kill'd? and Caffio kill'd? Emil. No, Caffio is not kill'd. Oth. Not Caffio kill'd? Then murder's out of tune, And sweet revenge grows harfh. Def. |
