My friend, thy busband, bonest, bonest Jago. I pynt 9H mil. If he fay fo, may his pernicious foulwon! I Rot half a grain a day! he lyes of th heart of 992 She was too fond of her moft filthy bargain. ogol I. Oth. Hah! Held bauot od tadw and 1 Emil. Do thy worst. poy bib ma limbs. This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven, oyal Than thou waft worthy her. blos voY in Oth. Peace, you were beft.vis Jool ym og J „09J Emil. Thou haft not half that power to do me harm, As I have to be hurt. Oh gull! oh dolt! Enter Montano Gratiano, Iago, and others. Mon. What is the matter? How now, General? Emil. Oh, are you come, Iago? you have done well, That men muft lay their murders on your neck. Emil. Difprove this villain, if thou be'ft a man; 9 Thou haft not half that power to do me harm, As I have to be burt:-] Power for will: For will fignifying both ability and inclination, and power fignifying ability, he uses power for inclination. But the Oxford Editor, not understanding his author's phrafeology any better when he had ended than when he had begun with him, al ters, As I have to be hurt, to, As I have to bear hurt: which yet does not mend the matter, had the poet here used power in the fenfe of ability. WARD. The Oxford editor faw well the meaning of his authour, but weakened his expreffion. She means to say, I have in this caufe power to endure more than thou baft power to infli. He fays, thou toldft him that his wife was falfe: Iago. I told him what I thought; and told no more, Than what he found himself was apt and true. Emil. But did you ever tell him, fhe was falfe?Iago. I did. Vahor Emil. You told a lye; an odious, damned, lye; Upon my foul, a lye; a wicked lye. She falfe with Caffio? Did you fay, with Caffio? tongue. Charm your Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I'm bound to fpeak; My miftrefs lies bere murder'd in her bed. All. Ob beavens forefend! Emil. And your reports have fet the murderer on. Mon. Ob monstrous act! Emil. Villainy! villainy! villainy! I think upon't Ithink •Ifmell't I thought fo then I'll kill myself for grief, Oh villainy, villainy! Ob villainy! Iago, What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home. Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak. 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now. Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home. Oth. Orb, Oh oh oh down Othello falls on the bed. For thou haft kill'd the sweetest Innocent, That e'er did lift up eye. Oth. Oh, fhe was foul! [Rifing I fcarce did know you, Uncle. There lies your Niece, Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stopp'd. I know, this act fhews horrible and grim. Gra. Poor Desdemona! I'm glad, thy father's dead: Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet lago knows, Emil. Oh heaven! oh heavenly Powers! Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out-I hold my peace? No, I will fpeak as liberal as the North; Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, Emil. I will not. [lago offers to ftab his wife. Gra. Fy, 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; A thousand times committed.--] comprised in the action of this This is another paffage which play than the scenes include. feems to fuppofe a longer space For For often, with a folemn earnestnefs, More than, indeed, belong'd to fuch a trifle, Jago Villainous whore! Emil. She gave it Caffio?-alas, I found it, And I did giv't my husband. や Jago. Filth, thou lieft. Emil. By heav'n, I do not; I do not, gentlemen, Oh murd❜rous coxcomb! what fhould fuch a fool Do with fo good a wife? [The Moor runs at Iago, who breaks through and wounds his wife; then runs out. Oth. Are there no ftones in heav'n, But what ferve for the thunder? Precious villain! Gra. The woman falls; fure, he has killed 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 pafs, But kill him rather. I'll after that fame villain, For 'tis à damned flave. [Exeunt Mon. and Gra. Oth. I am not valiant neither; Emil. What did thy Song bode, lady? Hark, can't thou hear me? I will play the fwan, [Æmilia dies. Gra. [within.] If thou attempt it, it will coft thee dear; Thou haft no weapon, and perforce muft fuffer. Re-enter Gratiano. Gra. What is the matter? Upon a foldier's thigh. I've feen the day, 4—the icebrook's temper ;] In the first edition it is, febroke'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 fineft arms in the world are the Catalonian fusees. POPE. I believe the old reading changed to ice-brook is right. Steel is hardened by being put red hot into very cold water. |