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How he upbraids Iago, that he made him
Lod. You must forsake this room, and go
Your power and your command is taken off,
That can torment him much, and hold him
It shall be his: You shall close prisoner rest,
Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know it;
No more of that:-I pray you, in your letters,
Of one that lov'd not wisely, but too well;
Their medicinal gum: Set you down this:
Lod. O bloody period!
[Falling upon DESDEMONA. Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
Cas. This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;
For he was great of heart.
Lod. O Spartan dog,
More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!
THE reader will frequently be at a loss to reconcile the order and passages of Othello, as given in the present edition, with their accustomed delivery on the stage; but it is considered a trifling inconvenience, when counteracted by the pleasure of possessing (as nearly as the most authentic resources can afford them,) the actual language and construction of the drama, as given by Shakspeare. In the authorized copies of the prompters' books, and in many editions reprinted from them, the beauty of the original has been somewhat obscured by green-room critics, of conflicting taste, and obsequious managers, more penny-wise than poetical. The scene with the musicians, which introduces Act II.---that incongruous nuisance, the clown---and that equally troublesome excrescence, Bianca the prostitute ---are however, with real judgment, omitted in the representation; and many of the less important passages, such as occur in the scene before the senate---in the soliloquies of lago---in the dialogues between Montano and a gentleman of Cyprus, on the tempest of the preceding night, and between Desdemona and Emilia, on the temptations to adultery, are very considerably abridged. The order of the scenes is also perpetually varied; each theatrical copartnership retaining its peculiar programme of Richard or Othello, in common with its wardrobe, thunder, side-scenes, and mould-candles.
ROMEO AND JULIET.
LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. IN 1562 Mr. Arthur Brooke published a poem on "The Tragicall Historie of Romeus and Juliett ;" the materials for which he chiefly obtained from a French translation (by Boisteau) of an Italian novel by Luigi da Porto, a Venetian gentleman, who died in 1529. A prose translation of Boisteau's work was also published 1576, by Paister, in his Palace of Pleasure, vol. II.; and upon the incidents of these two works, especially of the poem, Malone decides that Shakspeare constructed his entertaining tragedy. Dr. Johnson has declared this play to be "one of the most pleasing of Shakspeare's performances:" but it contains some breaches of irregularity--many superfluities, tumid conceits, and bombastic ideas, inexcusable even in a lover; with a continued recur rence of jingling periods and trifling quibbles, which obscure the sense, or disgust the reader. Several of the characters are, however, charmingly designed, and not less happily executed; the catastrophe is intensely affecting; the incidents various and expressive; and as the passion which it delineates is one of universal acceptance in the catalogue of human wishes, the tinder-like character of the lady, and the notable constancy of the gentleman, are forgotten in the dangers and the calamities of both. The numerous rhymes which occur, are probably seedlings from Arthur Brooke's stock plant. "The nurse (says Dr. Johnson) is one of the characters in which Shakspeare delighted: he has, with great subtilty of distinction, drawn her at once loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest."
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
ABRAM, Servant to Montague.
PARIS, a young Nobleman, Kinsman to the AN APOTHECARY.
SCENE, during the greater part of the Play, in Verona: once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua.
Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.
Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.
Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men.
Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant : when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads.
Gre. The heads of the maids?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it.
Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish: if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. * Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.
Enter ABRAM and BALTHAZER.
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
Enter MONTAGUE, and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go.
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek
Enter PRINCE, with Attendants.
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd
Gre. How? turn thy back, and run?
Gre. No, marry: I fear thee!
Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Gre. I will frown as I pass by: and let them take it as they list.
Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you,
Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir?
Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.
Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.
Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, Sir
Enter BENVOLIO, at a Distance.
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my And your's, close fighting ere I did approach:
Sam. Yes, better, Sir.
Abr. You lie.
Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy smashing blow.
[They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do.
[Beats down their Swords.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these
heartless hinds ?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
I drew to part them; in the instant came
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Right glad I am, he was not at his fray.
Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy Peer'd through the golden window of the east, sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate That westward rooteth from the city's side,
So early walking did I see your son:
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been