Def. My Lord! Oth. Are you wife? Def. What, is he angry? Lod. 'May be, the letter moved him. A For, as I think, they do command him home, (45) Deputing Caffio in his government, Def. Trust me, I am glad on't. Oth. Indeed! Def. My Lord! Oth. I am glad to see you mad. Oth. Devil!—. Def. I have not deferved this. [Afide. [Striking her. Lod. My Lord, this would not be believed in Though I fhould fwear I faw't. "Tis very much; Make her amends, fhe weeps. Oth Oh devil, devil! If that the earth could teem with woman's tears, (45) For as I think, they do command him home, Deputing Callio in his government.] Had Mr Rymer intended or known how to make a ferious and fenfible critic on this play, methinks, here is a fair opening given for inquiry and animadverfion. Othello is, as it were, but just arrived at Cyprus upon an emergency of defending it against the Turks; the fenate could hardly yet have heard of the Ottoman flect being feattered by tempeft; and Othello is at once remanded home, without any imputation suggested on his conduct, or any hint of his being employed in a more urgent commiffion. 'Tis true, the deputation of Caffio in his room feems defigned to heighten the Moor's refentment: but fome probable reafon fhould have been affigned, and thrown in to the audience, for his being recalled As to what lago fays afterwards, that Othello is to go to Mauritania, this is only a lie of his own invention, to carry a point with Rodorigo.It is in little omifhons of this fort, that Shakespeare's indolence, or neglect of art, is frequently to be cenfured. Def. I will not ftay t' offend you. Lod. Truly, an obedient lady: I do befeech your Lordship, call her back. Otb. Miftrefs,----- Def. My Lord. Oth. What would you with her, Sir? Lod. Who, I, my Lord? [Going Oth. Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn; I'll fend for you anon,---Sir, I obey the mandate, Manent LODOVICO and IAGO. [Exit. Lod. Is this the noble Moor, whom our full Senate Call all-in-all fufficient? this the Nature Which paffion could not fhake? whofe folid virtue (46) (46) -whofe folid virtue The foot of accident, nor dart of chance Could neither graze nor pierce.] But 'tis no commendation to the most folid virtue to be free from the attacks of fortune: but that it is fo impenetrable as to fuffer no impreffion. Now, to graze, fignifies, only to touch the fuperficies of any thing. That is the attack of Fortune: and by that virtue is tried, but not difcredited. We ought certainly therefore to read, Can neither raze nor pierce. VOL. XII. The fhot of accident, nor dart of change," i. e. neither lightly touch upon, nor pierce into. The ignorant transcribers being acquainted with the phrase of a bollet grazing, and fhot being mentioned in the line before, they corrupted the true word. Befides, we do not fay, graze a thing, but graze on it. Mr Warburton. The fame diftinction betwixt raze and pierce, our Author has marked, I remember, in his translation of Paris's epiftle to Helen: My wound is not a flight raze with an arrow, But it hath pierced my heart, and burned my marrow. In the fame manner the French used their word rafer, which fometimes fignifies brufhing over, touching a thing but lightly Il fe dit des corps qui poffent fort près de quetques autres, et ne les touchent que légerément; fays Richelet. So with them, rafer les eaux, means, to fkim lightly over the water. And in the fame manner, the beft Latin poets uied their verb, radere, to fkim along by, run gently over. -ripas racentia flumina rodunt. Lucret. V. 257. Radit iter lavum interior. Radimus. -Proje&uque Saxa Pachini. Idem VI. 117. Virg. En. V. 170. Idem En, III. 699. Proxima Circae raduntur littera terræ. &c. &c. But to return to our Author. I have ventured to attack another part of this fentence, which my ingenious friend flipped over. I cannot fee for my heart the diffe rence betwixt the fhot of accident, and dart of chance. The words and things they imply, are purely fynonymous ; but that the Poet intended two different things, feems plain from the difcretive adverb. Chance may afflict a man in fome circumftances; but other diftrelles are to be accounted for from a different caufe. I am perfuaded our Author wrote; The hot of accident, nor dart of change, &c. And in feveral other places, our Poet induftriously puts thefe two words în oppofition to each other: Which fhackles accident and bolts up change. Antony and Cleopatra. Lago. He is much changed. Lod. Are his wits fafe? is he not light of brain? lago. He's what he is; I may not breathe my cenfure. What he might be, if what he might he is not, Lod. What, ftrike his wife! Iago. 'Faith, that was not fo well; yet 'would I That ftroke would prove the worst. Lod: Is it his ufe? Or did the letters work upon his blood, And new-create this fault? lago. Alas, alas! It is not honefty in me to speak f [knew What I have seen and known. Youfhall obferve him, And his own courfes will denote him fo, That I may fave my fpeech. Do but go after, And mark how he continues. Lod. I'm forry that I am deceived in him. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Palace. Enter OTHELLO and EMILIA. Oth. You have feen nothing then? Emil. Nor ever heard, nor ever did fufpect. -How chances mock, And changes fill the cup of alteration. 2 Henry IV. Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer. Titus Andronicus. So Milton, a very ftudious imitator of Shakespeare's manner and expreffion; Befides, what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change, In brief fententious precepts while they treat Oth. Yes, you have feen Caffio and her together. Emil. But then I faw no harm; and then I heard Each fyllable that breath made up between them. Oth. What? did they never whisper? Emil.- Never, my Lord. Oth. Nor fend you out o' th' way? Emil. Never. Oth. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing? 4 Emil. Never, my Lord. Oth. That's ftrange! Manil. I durft, my Lord, to wager fhe is honeft, Lay down my foul at ftake: if you think other, Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bofom. If any wretch hath put this in your head, Let Heaven requite it with the ferpent's curfe! For if the be not honeft, chaste and true, There's no man happy; the purest of their wives Is foul as flander. ་ Oth. Bid her come hither, go. [Exit Emilia. She fays enough; yet fhe's a simple bawd, That cannot fay as much. This is a fubtle whore, Def. My Lord, what is your will? Oth. Let me fee your eyes; look in my face. Oth. Some of your function, mistress; |