Oth. dead; Emil. O, who hath done Emil. You told a lie; an odious daigned lie; This deed ? Upon my soul, a lie; a wicked lie:Des. Nobody; I myself; farewell. She false with Cassio !--Did you say with Cassio ? Commend me to my kind lord; O, farewell. [Dies. lago. With Cassio, mistress; Go to, charm your Oth Why, now should she be murder'd: tongue. Emil. Alas, who knows? Emil. I will not charm my tongue; I am bound Oth. You heard her say herself, it was not I. to speak; Emil. She said so: I must needs report the truth. My mistress here lies murder'd in her bed. Oth. She's, like a liar, gone to burning hell; AU. O heavens forefend ! 'Twas I that kill'd her. Emil. And your reports have set the murder on. Emil. 0, the more angel she, Oth. Nay, stare not, masters; it is true, indeed. And you the blacker devil! Gra. 'Tis a strange truth. Oth. She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore. Mon. O monstrous act! Emil. Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil. Emil. Villainy, villainy, villainy! Oth. She was false as water. I think upon't, I think,-I smell't;-0 villainy!Emil. Thou art rash as fire, to say I thought so then ;-I'll kill myself for grief. That she was false; 0, she was heavenly true! O villainy, villainy! (home Oth. Cassio did tup her : ask thy husband else. lago. What, are you mad ? I charge you, get you 0, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell, Emil. Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak But that I did proceed upon just grounds 'Tis proper I obey him, but not now: To this extremity; Thy husband knew it all. Perchance, Iago, I will ne'er go home. Emil. My husband ? Oth. 0! 0! 0: (Hanging over his wife. Oth. Thy husband. Emil. Nay, lay thee down, and roar; Emil. That she was false to wedlock ? For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, Oth. Ay, with Cassio. That e'er did lift up eye. Nay, had she been true, O, she was foul!If heaven would make me such another world [Rising. Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, I scarce did know yon, incle: There lies your niece, I'd not have sold her for it. Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly Emil. My husband ? stopp'd : Oth, Ay, 'twas he that told me first; I know this act shows horrible and grim An honest man he is, and hates the slime Gra. Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's That sticks on filthy deeds. Emil. My husband ? Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Oth. What needs this iterance, woman? I say, Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now, thy husband. This sight would make him do a desperate turn, Emil. O, mistress, villainy hath made mocks with Yea, curse his better angel from his side, love ! And fall to reprobation. My husband say, that she was false ? Oth. 'Tis pitiful; but yet Iago knows, Oth. He woman; That she with Cassio hath the act of shame I say, thy husband: Dost understand the word ? A thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it: My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago. And she did gratify his amorous works Emil. If he say so, may his pernicious soul With that recognizance and pledge of love Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart; Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand; She was too fond of her most filthy bargain. It was a handkerchief, an antique token Oth. Ha! My father gave my mother. Emil. Do thy worst; Emil. O heaven! O heavenly powers ! This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven, lago. Come, hold your peace. Than thou wast worthy her. Emil. "Twill out, 'twill out;-I hold my peace, Oth, Peace, you were best. Emil. Thou hast not half the power to do me No, I will speak as liberal as the air ; harm, Let heaven, and men, and devils, let them all, As I have to be hurt. O gull! O dolt ! All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak. As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed, lago. Be wise, and get you home. I care not for thy sword; I'll make thee known, Emil. I will not. Though I lost twenty lives :—Help! help, ho! help! [Iago offers to stab his wife. The Moor bas kill'd my mistress; Murder! murder! Gra. Fye: Your sword upon a woman? Emil. () thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speak’st of, Emil . O, are you come, Iago ? you have done well, I found by fortune, and did give my husband; That men must lay their m'ırders on your neck. For often with a solemn earnestness, Gra. What is the matter? (More than, indeed, belong'd to such a trifle,) Emil. Disprove this villain, if thou be'st a man. He begg'd of me to steal it. He says, thou told’st him that his wife was false : , lago. Villainous whore. I know, thou didst not, thou’rt not such a villain. Emil. She give it Cassio! no, alas; I found it, Spcak, for my heart is full. And I did give't my husband. layo. I told him what I thought; and told do Jago. Filth, thou liest. Emil. By heaven, I do not; I do not, gentlemen T'han what he found himself was apt and true. O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool Emil. But did you ever tell him she was false ? Do with so good a wife ? (Ingo stabs EMILIA, then tuns cute sir ? no; more Will you, Oth. I bleed, sir; but not kill'd. Lod. O'thou Othello, that was once so good, What shall be said to thee? Why, any thing: weapon, An honourable murderer, if you will; Which I have here recover'd from the Moor: For nought I did in hate, but all in honour. Come, guard the door without; let him not pass, Lod. This wretch hath part confess'd bis villainy But kill him rather; I'll after that same villain, Did you and he consent in Cassio's death ? For 'tis a damned slave. Oth. Ay. (Ereunt Montano and GRATIANO. Cas. Dear general, I never gave you cause. Oth. I am not valiant neither, Oth. I do believe it, and I ask your pardon. But every puny whipster gets my sword : I pray you, demand that demi-devil, But why should bonour outlive honesty ? Why he haththus ensuar'd my soul anu body Let it go all. layo. Demand me nothing: What you know, Emil. What did thy song bode, lady? you know: Hark, can'st thou hear me? I will play the swan, From this time forth I never will speak word. And die in musick ;-Willow, willow, willow.- Lod. What? not to pray? Moor, she was chaste; she lov'd thee, cruel Moor; Gru. Torments will ope your lips So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true; Oth. Well, thou dost best. So speaking as I think, I die, I die. (Dies. Lod. Sir, you shall understand what hath befall'n, Oih. I have another weapon in this chamber, Which, as I think, you know not: Here is a letter, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper;- Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo; O, here it is :-Uncle, I must come forth. And here, another: the one of them imports Gra. [Within.] If thou attempt it, it will cost The death of Cassio to be undertook thee dear; By Roderigo. Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer. Oth. O villain ! Oth. Look in upon me then, and speak with me, Cas. Most heathenish, and most gross! Or, naked as I am, I will assault thee. Lod. Now here's another discontented paper, Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems, Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain ; But that, belike, lago in the interim Came in and satisfied him. Oth, O the pernicious caitif!A better never did itself sustain How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief Cas. I found it in my chamber: I have made my way through more impediments And he himself confess'd, but even now, Than twenty times your stop :-But, О vain boast! That there be dropp'd it, for a special purpose, Who can control his fate? 'lis not so now. Which wrought to bis desire. Be not afraid though you do see me weapon'd; Oth. O fool! fool! fool! Here is my journey's end, here is my butt, Cas. There is, besides, Roderigo's letter, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail. How be upbraids lago, that he made him That I was cast : And even but now he spake, If there be any cunving cruelty, O cursed, cursed slave ! -Whip me, ye devils, That can torment him much, and bold him long, From the possession of this heavenly sight! It shall be his : You shall close prisoner rest, Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur! Till that the nature of your fault be known Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire ! To the Venetian state :-Come, bring him away, O Desdemona ! Desdemona! dead? Oth. Soft you; a word or two, before you go. Dead? O! O! O! I have done the state some service, and they know it; No more of that:--I pray you, in your letters, Enter Lodovico, MONTANO, Cassio, carried in a When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, chair, and Officers, with Lago, prisoner, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak Lod Where is this rast, and most unfortunate Of one, that lov'd not wisely, but too well; man ? Of one, not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Albeit unused to the melting mood, (OTHELLO uvundo Lago. Their medicínal gum: Set you down this : Lod. Wrench his sword from him. And say, besides,—that in Aloppo once, Where a malignant and a turbau'd Turk Lod. O Spartan dog, Beat a Venetian, and traduc'd the state, More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea ! I took by the throat the circumcised dog, Look on the tragick loading of this bed ; (To lauo. And smote him-thus. (Štabs himself. This is thy work: the object poisons sight;Lod. O bloody period ! Let it be hid.-Gratiano, keep the house, Gra. Ali, that's spoke, is marr’d. Ard seize upon the fortunes of the Moor Oih. I kiss'd thee, ere I killed thee;-No way For they succeed to you.-To you, lord governor, but this, (Falling upon DESDEMONA. Remains the censure of this bellish villain; Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. (Dies. The time, the place, the torture,- enforce it ! Cas. This did I fear but thought he had no Myself will straight aboard ; and, to the state, weapon; This heavy act with heavy heart relate. Preur: For be war great of heart 3 M SUMMARY REMARKS BY JOHNSON AND STEEVENS. THE TEMPEST.-It is observed of The Tem- passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless pest, that its plan is regular; this the author of The jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff must have Revisal thinks, what I think too, an accidental ef. suffered so much abatement, that little of his former fect of the story, not intended or regarded by our cast would have remained. Falstaff could not love, author.. But, whatever might be Shakspeare's in- but by ceasing to be Falstaff . He could only coun. tention in forming or adopting the plot, he has made terfeit love, and his professions could be prompted, it instrumental to the production of many cha- not by the hope of pleasure, but of money. Thus racters, diversified with boundless invention, and the poet approached as near as he could to the work preserved with profound skill in nature, extensive enjoined him; yet having perhaps in the former knowledge of opinions, and accurate observation of plays completed his own idea, seems not to have life. In a single drama are here exhibited princes, been able to give Falstaff all his former power of courtiers, and sailors, all speaking in their real cha. entertaininent. racters. There is the agency of airy spirits, and of This comedy is remarkable for the variety and an earthly goblio; the operations of magic, the number of the personages, who exhibit more ela tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, racters appropriated and discriminated than perthe native effusion of untaught affection, the pu- haps can be found in any other play pishment of guilt, and the final happiness of the Whether Shakspeare was the first that producea pair for whom our passions and reason are equally upon the English stage the effect of language disinterested. JOHNSON. torted and depraved by provincial or foreign par nunciation I cannot certainly decide. This mode TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.-- In this of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise play there is a strange mixture of knowledge and only on liiin who originally discovered it, for it reignorance, of care and negligence. The versifica- quires not much of either wit or judgment; its suction is often excellent, the allusions are learned and cess must be derived almost wholly from the player, just; but the author conveys his heroes by sea from but its power in a skilful mouth, even be that'de: one inland town to another in the same country; spises it, is unable to resist. he places the emperor at Milan, and sends his young The conduct of this drama is deficient; the ac. men to attend him, but never mentions him more; tion begins and ends often, before the conclusion, he makes Proteus, after an interview with Silvia, and the different parts might change places withou. say he has only seen her picture: and, if we may inconvenience; but its general power, that power credit the old copies, he has, by mistaking places, by which all works of genius shall finally be tried, left his scenery inextricable. The reason of all this is such, that perhaps it never yet had reader or confusion seems to be, that he took his story from a spectator who did not think it too soon at the end. novel, which he sometimes followed, and sometimes JOHNSON. foreook; sometimes remembered, and sometimes forgot. TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU That this play is rightly attributed to Shakspeare, WILL.—This play is in the graver part elegant I have little doubt. If it be taken from him, to and easy, and in some of the lighter scenes exquiwhom shall it be given ? This question may be asked sitely humorous. Ague-cheek is drawn with great of all the disputed plays, except Titus Andronicus; propriety, but his character is, in a great measure, and it will be found more credible, that Shakspeare that of natural fatuity, and is therefore not the promight sometimes sink below his highest flights, than per prey of a satirist. The soliloquy of Malvolio that any other should rise up to his lowest. is truly comic; he is betrayed to ridicule merely by JOHNSON. his pride. The marriage of Olivia, and the suc. ceeding perplexity, though well enough contrived to MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.-O{ this divert on the stage, wants credibility, and fails to play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, produce the proper instruction required in the drania, that it was written at the command of Queen Eli- as it exhibits no just picture of life. JOHNSON. zabeth, who was so delighted with the character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through MEASURE FOR MEASURE.-The novel of more lays; but suspecting that it might pall by Giraldi Cinthio, from which Shakspeare is supposed continued uniformity, directed the poet to diversify to have borrowed this fable, may be read in Shakhis manner, by showing him in love. No task is speare Illustrated, elegantly translated, with remarks darder than that of writing to the ideas of another, which will assist the inquirer to discover hor much Shakspeare knew what the queen, if the story be absurdity Shakspeare bas admitted or avoided. crue, seems not to have known, that by any real I cannot but suspect that some other had vert modelled the novel of Cinthio, or written a story many sparks of genins; nor is there any play that which in some particulars resembled it, and that has more evident marks of the hand of Shakspeare Cinthio was poi the author whom Shakspeare im JOHNSON. mediately followed. The emperor in Cinthio is named Maximine: the duke, in Shakspeare's enu MERCHANT OF VENICE.-Of the Merchant meration of the persons of the drama, is called Vin. of Venice the style is even and easy, with few pe. centio. This appears a very slight remark; but culiarities of diction, or anomalies of construction. zince the duke has uo name in the play, nor is ever The comic part raises laughter, and the serious fixes mentioned but by his title, why should he be called expectation. The probability of either one or the Vincentio among the persons, but because the name other story cannot be maintained. The union of was copied from the story, and placed superfluously two actions in one event is in this drama eminently at the bead of the list, by the mere habit of tran- happy. Dryden was much pleased with his own scription i It is therefore likely that there was then address in connecting the two plots of his Spanish a story of Vincentio, duke of Vienna, different from Friar, which yet, I believe, the critic will find exthat of Maximine, emperor of the Romans. celled by this play. JOHNSON. of this play, the light or comic part is very natural and pleasing, but the grave seems, if a few AS YOU LIKE IT.-Of this play the fable is passages be excepted, to have more labour than ele- wild and pleasing. I know not how the ladies will gance. The plot is rather intricate than artful. approve the facility with which both Rosalind and The time of the action is indetinite : some time, we Celia give away their hearts. To Celia much may know not how much, must have elapsed between the be forgiven, for the heroism of her friendship. The recess of the duke and the imprisonineut of Claudio; character of Jaques is natural and well preserved. for he must have learned the story of Mariana in his The comic dialogue is very sprightly, with less mix. disguise, or he delegated his power to a man already ture of low buffoonery than in some other plays; known to be corrupted. The unities of action and and the graver part is elegant and harmonious. 'By place are sufficiently preserved. JOHNSON, hastenivp to the end of this work, Shakspeare sup pressed ine dialogue between the usurper and the MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.–This play hermit, and lost an opportunity of exhibiting a mo. may be justly said to coutain two of the most ral lesson, in which he might have found matter sprightly characters that Shakspeare ever drew. worthy of his highest powers. JOHNSON. The wit, the humourist, the gentleman, and the soldier, are combined in Benedick. It is to be la- ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.—This mented, indeed, that the first and most splendid of play has many delightful scenes, though not suffi. these distinctions, is disgraced by unnecessary pro- ciently probable ; and some happy characters, saneness; for the goodness of his heart is hardly though not new, nor produced by any deep knowsufficient to atone for the licence of his tongue. The ledge of human nature. Parolles is a boaster and too sarcastic levity, which flashes out in the con- a coward, such as has always been the sport of the versation of Beatrice, may be excused on account stage, but perhaps never raised more laughter or of the steadiness and friendship so apparent in her contempt than in the hands of Shakspeare. behaviour, when she urges her lover to risque his I cannot reconcile my heart to Bertram; a man life by a challenge to Claudio. In the conduct of noble without generosity, and young without truth; the fable, however, there is an imperfection similar who marries Helen as a coward, and leaves her as to that which Dr. Johnson has pointed out in the a profligate : when she is dead by his unkindness, Merry Wives of Windsor,--the second contrivance sneaks home to a second marriage, is accused by a is less ingenious than the first-or, to speak more woman whom he has wronged, defends himself by plainly, the same incident is become stale by repe- falsehood, and dismissed to happiness. tition. I wish some other method had been found The story of Bertram and Diana had been told to entrap Beatrice, than that very one which before before of Mariana and Angelo, and, to confess the had been successfully practised on Benedick. Much truth, scarcely merited to be heard a second tiine. Ado About Nothing, (as I understand from one of JOHNson. Mr. Vertue's MSS.) formerly passed under the title of Benedick and Beatrix. Heming the player re TAMING OF THE SHREW.-of this play ceived, on the 20th of May, 1613, the sum of forty the two plots are so well united, that they can hardly pounds, and twenty pounds more as his majesty's be called two, without injury to the art with which gratuity, for exbibiting six plays at Hampton Court, they are interwoven. The attentiou is entertained among which was this comedy. STEevens. with all the variety of a double plot, yet is not dis tracted by unconnected incidents. MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM. - Wild The part between Katharine and Petruchio is emi. and fantastical as this play is, all the parts in their nently sprightly and diverting. At the marriage of various modes are well written, and give the kind Bianca, ihe arrival of the real father, perhaps, proof pleasure which the author designed, Fairies in duces more perplexity than pleasure. The whole his time were much in fashion ; common tradition play is very popular and diverting. Johnson. had made them familiar, and Spencer's poem had made them great. Johns. WINTER'S TALE.-This play, as Dr. War burton justly observes, is, with all its absurdities, LOVE'S LABOUR’S LOST.-In this play,which very entertaining. The character of Autolycus is all the editors have concurred to censure, and some naturally conceived, and strongly represented. have rejected as unworthy of our poet, it must be Johnson confessed that there are many passages mean, child. ish, and vulgar : and some which ought not to have COMEDY OF ERRORS.--On a careful revia been exhibited, as we are told they were, to a maiden sion of the foregoing scenes, I do not hesitate to queen. But there are scattered through the whole pronounce them the composition of two very uc |