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And smooth as monumental alabafter.

Yet the muft die; elfe fhe'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and, then, put out the light: (52)
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,

I can again thy former light reftore,

Should I repent: but once put out thy light,
Thou cunningest pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat,
That can thy light relumine.----[Sets down the Taper.
When I have plucked thy rofe,

I cannot give it vital growth again;

It needs must wither.------I'll smell thee on the tree;

[Kifing her. Oh balmy breath, that deft almoft perfuade [more; Juftice to break her fword !------One more; one Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And love thee after.-------One more, that's the last;

(52) Put out the light, and then put out the light] The players, in all the companies where-ever I have seen this tragedy performed, commit an absurdity here, in making Othello put out the candle, which, 'tis evident, never was the Poet's intention. Desdemona is difcovered in her bed, in the dark; and Othello enters the chamber with a fingle taper. If there were any other lights burning in the room, where would be the drift of putting out his? If there were no others, and that he puts his out, how abfurd is it for Defdemona in the dark to talk of his eyes rowling, and his gnawing his nether-lip? -This I conceive to have been the Poet's meaning: Othello, ftruck in part with remorse at the murder he's going to do, thinks it beft to do it in the dark; this compunction of nature, in the hurry and perturbation of thought, and thofe remains of tenderness fill combating in his bofom, ftrikes him into an inftant reflection that if he puts out the light. he can rekindle it; but if he once puts out the light of her life, that will be extinguished for ever. While he is bufied in this contemplation, he throws his eyes towards her; and then foothed with her beauteous appearance, fets down the light, to go and kils her. Upon this, Defdemona wakes; and they continue in discourse together till he ftifles her.

So fweet, was ne'er fo fatal! I must weep,
But they are cruel tears: this forrow's heavenly;
It strikes, where it doth love-----She wakes-----
Def. Who's there? Othello?

Oth. Ay, Desdemona.

Def. Will you come to bed, my Lord?
Oth. Have you prayed to-night, Desdemona?
Def. Ay, my Lord.

Oth. If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconciled as yet to Heaven, and grace,
Solicit for it strait.

Def. Alack, 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 forfend !)I would not kill thy soul. 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. Oth. Hum.

Def. And yet I fear you: for you're fatal then, When your eyes rowl fo. Why I fhould fear I

know not,

Since guilt I know not: yet, I feel, I fear.
Oth. Think on thy fins.

Def. They're loves I bear to you.

Oth. Ay, and for that thou diest.

Def. That death's unnatural, that kills for loving.

Alas, why gnaw you fo your nether lip?

Some bloody paflion shakes your very frame;
Thefe are portents: but yet I hope, I hope,

They do not point on me.

Oth. Peace, and be still.

Def. I will fo: what's the matter?

Oth. That handkerchief

Which I fo loved, and gave thee, thou gavest Caffio. Def. No, by my life and foul: fend for the man, And ask him.

Oth. Sweet foul, take heed, take heed of perjury; Thou art on thy death-bed.

Def. Ay, but not yet to die.

Oth. Prefently;

Therefore confefs thee freely of thy fin:
For to deny each article with oath,

Cannot remove nor choak the strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
Def. Oh, Heaven have mercy on me!
Oth. I fay, amen.

Def. And have you mercy too!---I never did
Offend you in my life; never loved Caffio,
But with fuch general warrantry of Heaven,
As I might love. I never gave him token.

Oth. By Heaven, I faw my handkerchief in's hand.
Oh perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart;
And makest me call, what I intend to do,
A murder, which I thought a facrifice.
I faw the handkerchief.

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Def. He found it then;

I never gave it him; fend for him hither,

Let him confefs a truth.

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 say so.

2

Oth. No, his mouth is stopped;

Honeft lago hath ta'en order for't.

Def. My fear interprets then---What, is he dead?
VOL. XII.

C c

Oth. Had all his hairs been lives, my great re Had ftomach for them all.

[venge Oth. Out, ftrumpet! weepeft thou for him to my face?

Def. Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone.

Def. Oh, banish me, my Lord, but kill me not.
Oth. Down, ftrumpet.

Def. Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night.
Oth. Nay, if you ftrive--

Def. But half an hour.

Oth. Being done, there is no pause.

Def. But while I fay one prayer.

Oth. It is too late.

[He fmothers her.

MILIA, at the Door.

Emil. My Lord, my Lord! what hoa! my
Lord! my Lord!

Oth. What noife is this? not dead? not yet quite , that am cruel, am yet merciful;

I would not have thee linger in thy pain.
So, fo.

[dead?

Emil. within.] What, hoa! my Lord, my Oth. Who's there?

[Lord! Dmil. Oh, my good Lord, I would speak a word

with you.

Oth. Yes; 'tis Emilia---by and by---fhe'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 fhe 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 (53)

53) Methinks, it should be now a huge eclipfe

Of fun and moon; and that th' affrighted globe

Of fun and moon, and that the affrighted globe Should yawn at alteration----

Emil. I beseech you,

That I may speak with you. Oh, my good Lord! Oth. I had forgot thee; ch, come in, Æmilia. Soft, by and by, let me the curtains draw.

Where art thou? what's the matter with thee now? [Unlocks the Door

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Enter EMILIA.

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Emil. Oh, my good Lord, yonder's foul mur

Oth. What? now?

Emil. But now, my Lord.

Uth. It is the very error of the moon;

[der done.

Should yawn at alteration] Mr Rymer is fo merry, as he thinks, upon this paffage, that I can't help transcribing. bis wonderful criticifin--" This is wonderful. Here is poetry to elevate and amufe. It would be uncivil to afk "Flamstead, if the fun and moon can both together be for hugely eclipfed in any heavy hour whatfoever. Nor muft "the fpectators confult Gretham college, whether a body

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is naturally frighted till he yawn again."--Such are the ludicrous criticiims of your wits! But is the word eclipfe, abfolutely refrained to that natural phænomenon which we understand by it? If Othello thought his deed so horrid, that the fun and moon ought to start from their spheres at it, and cease to enlighten this under-globe,. might not fucle a defection be called an eclipfe, with a vengeance? Well, but then, can a body be frighted till it yawn? Here, again, yawn is restrained to the ofcitation of a man ready to fall afleep; and, for the joke's fake, must mean no other kind of gaping This gentleman must have known, fure, that yawn (as well as xava, from which it is derived) was oftner applied to the gaping of the earth, than employed to fignify the soμa xxvos, the yawning, for instance, of a critic gaping after a feeble jeft. But, I am afraid, Mr Rymer was not too diligent a reader of the Scriptures. Let the Poet account for the prophanation, if he has committed any : but it is very obvious to me, his allufion is grounded on a certain folemn circumftance, when darkness is faid to have covered the whole face of the land; when rocks were rent, and graves opened.

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