A short view of tragedy it's original, excellency and corruption : with some reflections on Shakespear and other practitioners for the stage / by Mr. Rymer ...

CHAP. V. (Book 5)

Othello. More of a piece. •…•…n Tragedy •…•…our parts. Fable, the Po•…•…ts part. Cinthio's Novels. Othello al•…•…ered for the worse. Marriage, ab∣surd, •…•…orbidden by Horace. Fable of Othello. Use and Application. Othello's Love powder. High-German Doctor. Venetians odd taste of •…•…hings. Their Women fools. Employ Strangers. Hate the Moors. Characters. Nothing of the Moor in Othello, of a Venetian in Desdemona. Of a Souldier in Jago. The Souldiers Character, by Horace. What by Shakespear. Agamem∣non. Venetians no s•…•…nse of Jealousie. Thoughts, in Othello, in a Horse, or Masti•…•…f, more sensibly exprest. Ill Manners. Outragious to a Noble∣man, to Humanity. Address, in telling bad n•…•…ws. In Princes Courts. In Aristophanes. In Rabelais. Venetian Sena•…•…e. Their Wis∣dom.

FRom all the Tragedies acted on our Eng∣lish Stage, O•…•…hello is said •…•…o bear the Bell away. The Subject is more of a piece, and there is indeed something like, there is, as it were, some phantom of a Fable. The Fable is always accounted the Soul of Tra∣gedy. And it is the Fable which is pro∣perly the Poets part. Because the other

three parts of Tragedy, to wit the Cha∣racters are taken from the Moral Philoso∣pher; the thoughts or sence, from them that teach Rhetorick: And the last part, which is the expr•…•…ssion, we learn •…•…rom the Grammarians.

This Fable is drawn from a Novel, com∣pos'd in Italian by Giraldi Cinthio, who also was a Writer of Tragedies. And to that use employ'd such of his Tules, as he judg∣ed proper for the Stage. But with this o•…•… the Moor, he m•…•…ddl'd no farther.

Shakespear al•…•…ers it from the Original in several particulars, but always, unfortu∣nately, for the worse▪ He bestows a name on his Moor; and styles him the Moor of Venice: a Note of pre-eminence, which neither History nor Heraldry can allow him. Cinthio, who knew him best, and whose creature he was, calls him simply a Moor. We say the Piper of Strasburgh; the Jew of Florence; And, if you please, the Pindar of Wakefield: all upon Record, and me∣morable in their Places. But we see no such Cause for the Moors preferment to that dignity. And it is an affront to all Chroniclers, and Antiquaries, to top up∣on 'um a Moor, with that mark of renown, who yet had never faln within the Sphere of their Cognisance.

Then is the▪ Moors Wife, •…•…rom a simple Ci•…•…izen, in Cinth•…•…o, dress'd up with her Top knots, and rais'd to be Desdemona, a Senators Daugh•…•…er▪ All this is very strange; And therefore pleases such as r•…•…lect not on the improbability. This ma•…•…ch might well be wi•…•…hout the Par•…•…nts Consent. Old Ho∣ra•…•…e long ago forbad the Banes.

Sed non ut placidis Coeant immitia, non ut Serpentes avibus gem•…•…nentur, tigribus agni.

The Fable.

O•…•…hello, a Blackmoor Captain, by talk∣ing of his Pro•…•…ess and Feats of War, makes Desdemona a Sena•…•…ors Daughter to be in love with him; and to be married to him, without her Parents knowledge; And •…•…aving pr•…•…ferred Cassio, to •…•…e his Lieute∣nant, (a place which his Enfign Jago sued for) Jago in revenge, works the Moor into a Jealous•…•… that Cassio Cuckolds him: which he effects by stealing and conve•…•…ing a certain Handkerchi•…•…f, which had, at the Wedding, been by the Moor presented to his B•…•…ide. Hereupon, Othello and Jago plot the Deaths

of Desdemona and Cassio, Othello Murders her, and soon after is convinced of her Inno∣cence. And as he is about to be carried to Prison, in order to be punish'd for the Mur∣der, He kills himself.

What ever rubs or difficulty may stick on the Bark, the Moral, sure, of this Fable is •…•…ery instructive.

1. First, This may be a caution to all Maidens of Quality how, without their Pa∣rents con•…•…ent, they run away with black∣amo•…•…rs.

Di non si accompag•…•…are con huomo, cui la natura & il cielo, & il modo della vita, d•…•…s∣giunge da noi. Cin•…•…hio.

Secondly, This may be a warning to all good Wives, that they look well to their Linnen.

Thirdly, This may be a lesson to Hus∣bands, that before their Jealousie be Tragi∣cal, the proofs may be Mathema•…•…ical.

Cinthio affirms that She was not over∣come by a Womanish Appetite, but by the Vertue of the Moor. It must be a good-na∣tur'd Reader •…•…hat takes Cinthio's word in this case, tho' in a Novel. Shakespear, who is accountable both to the Eyes, and to the Ears, And to convince the very heart of an Audience, shews that Desdemona was

won, by hearing Othello talk,

Othello.

—I spake of most disastrou•…•… chances, of Moving accidents, by flood and field; of hair-breadth scapes i'th' imminent deadly breach; of being taken by the insolent foe; and sold to slavery: of my redemption thence; and portents in my Travels History: wherein of Antars vast, and Desarts idle, rough Quarries, Rocks, and Hills, whose heads (touch Heaven, It was my hint to speak, such was my process: and of the Cannibals that each others eat: the Anthropophagi, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders—

This was the Charm, this was the phil•…•…re, the love▪ owder •…•…hat took •…•…he Daughter of this Noble Venetian. This was suffici∣ent to make the Black▪amoor White, and reconcile all, tho' there had been a Cloven∣foot into the bargain.

A meaner woman might be as soon ta∣ken by Aqua Tetrachymagogo•…•….

Nodes, Cataracts, Tumours, Chilblains, Carnosity, Shankers, or any Cant in the Bill of an High-Germ•…•…n Doctor is as good fustian Circumstance, and

as likely to charm a Senators Daughter. But, it seems, the noble Venetians have an other sence of things. The Doge him∣self tells us;

Doge.

I think this Tale wou'd win my Daughter too.

Horace tells us,

Intererit Multum—Colchus an Assyri•…•…s, Thebis nutritus, an Argi•…•….

Shakespear in this Play calls 'em the su∣persubtle venetians. Yet examine through∣out the Tragedy there is nothing in the no∣ble Desdemona, that is not below any Coun∣trey Chamber-maid with us.

And the account he gives of their Noble∣men and Senate, can only be calculated for the latitude of Gotham.

The Character of that Sta•…•…e is to employ strangers in their Wars; But shall a Poet thence fancy that they will set a Negro to be their General; or t•…•…ust a Moor to defend them against the Turk? With us a Black-a∣moor might rise to be a Trumpeter; but Shakespear would not have him less than a

Lieutenant-Gener•…•… With us a Moor might marry some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or Sm•…•…ll-coal Wench: 〈◊〉〈◊〉, would provide him the Daught•…•…r and •…•…eir of some great Lord, or Privy-Co•…•…cellor: And all the •…•…own should 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it a very suitable match: Yet the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are not bred up with that hatred and av•…•…n to the Moors, as are the Ve∣netians, who su•…•…er by a perpetual Hostility from them,

Littora littoribu•…•… contraria—

Nothing is more odious in Nature than an improbable lye; And, certainly, ne∣ver was any Play fraught, like this of O∣thello, with improbabilities.

The •…•…haracters or Manners, which are the second part in a Tragedy, are not less unnatural and improper, than the Fable was improbable and absurd.

Othello is made a Venetian General. We see nothing done by him, nor related con∣cerning him, that comports with the condi∣tion of a General, or, indeed, of a Man, unless the killing himself, to avoid a death the Law was about to inflict upon him. When his Jealousy had wrought him up to a resolution of's taking revenge for the

suppos'd injury, He sets Jago to the fight∣ing part, to kill Cassio; And chuses him∣self to murder the silly Woman his Wife, that was like to make no resistance.

His Love and his Jealousie are no part of a Souldiers Character, unless for Comedy.

But what is most intolerable is Jago. He is no Black-amoor Souldier, so we may be sure he should be like other Souldiers of o•…•…r ac∣quaintance; yet never in Tragedy, nor in Comedy, nor in Nature was a Souldier with his Character; take it in the Authors own words▪

Em.

—some Eternal Villain, Some bufie, and insinuating Rogue, Some cogging, couzening Slave, to get some Office.

Horace Describes a Souldier o•…•…rwise:

Impiger, iracundus, ine•…•…orabilis, ace•…•….

Shakespear knew his Character of Jago was inconsistent. In this very Play he pro∣nounces,

If thou dost deliver more or less than Truth, Thou art no Souldier.—

This he knew, but to entertain the Au∣dience with something new and surprising, against common sense, and Nature, he would pass upon us a close, dissembling, false, insinuating rascal, instead of an open∣hearted, frank, plain-dealing Souldier, a character constantly worn by them for some thousands of years in the World.

* 1.1 Tiberius Caesar had a Poet Arraign'd for his Life: because Agamemnon was brought on the S•…•…age by him, with a cha∣racter unbecoming a Souldier.

Our Ensigns and Subalterns, when dis∣gusted by the Captain, throw up their Commissions, bluster, and are bare-fac'd. Jago, I hope, is not brought on the Stage, in a Red Coat. I know not what •…•…ivery the Venetians wear: but am sure they hold not these conditions to be alla soldatesca.

Non sia egli perfare la vendetta con infidie, ma con la spada in mano. Cinthio.

Nor is our Poet more discreet in his Des∣demona, He had chosen a Souldier for his Knave: And a Venetian Lady is to be the Fool.

This Senators Daughter runs away to

(a Carriers Inn) the Sagittary, with a Black•…•…amoor: is no sooner wedded to him, but the very night she Beds him, is importuning and teizing him •…•…or a young smock-fac'd Lieutenant, Cassi•…•…. And tho▪ she perceives the Moor Jealous of Cassio, yet will she not forbear, but still rings Cassio, Cassio in both his Ears.

Roderigo is the Cully of Jago, brought in to be murder'd by Jago, that Jago's hands might be the more in Blood, and be yet the more abominable Villain: who witho•…•…t that was too wicked on all Con∣science; And had more to answer for, than any Tragedy, or Furies could inflict upon him. So there can be nothing in the cha∣racters, either for the profit, or to delight an Audience.

The third thing to be consider'd is the Th•…•…ughts. But from such Characters, we need not expect many that are either true, or •…•…ine, or noble.

And without these, that is, •…•…hout sense or meaning, the •…•…ourth part of Tra∣gedy, which is the expression can hardly deserve to be treated o•…•… distinctly. The verse rumbling in our Ears are of good use to help off the action.

In the Neighing of an Horse, or in the

growling of a Mastiff, there is a meaning, there is as lively expression, and, may I say, more humanity, than many times in the Tragical flights of Shakespear.

Step then amongst the Scenes to observe the Conduct in this Tragedy.

The first we see are Jago and Roderigo, by Night in the Streets of Venice. After growling a long time together, they re∣solve to tell Brabantio that his Daughter is run away with the Black a-moor. Jago and Roderigo were not of quality to be fami∣liar with Brabantio, nor had any provocation from him, to deserve a rude thing at their hands. Brabantio was a Noble Venetian one of the Sovereign Lords, and principal persons in the Government, Peer to the most Serene Doge, one attended with more state, ceremony and punctillio, than any English Duke, or Nobleman in the go∣vernment will pretend to. This misfor∣tune in his Daughter is so prodigious, so tender a point, as might puzzle the finest Wit of the most supersubtle Venetian to touch upon it, or break the discovery to her Father. See then how delicately Shakespear minces the matter:

Rod.

What ho, Brabantio, Signior Braban∣tio, ho.

Jago.

Awake, what ho, Brabantio, Thieves, thieves, thieves: Look to your Hous•…•…, your Daug•…•…ter, and your Bags Thieves, thieves.

Brabantio at a Window.

Bra.

What is the reason o•…•… this terrible summons? What is the matter there?

Rod.

Signior, is all your Family within?

Jago.

Are your Doors lockt?

B•…•…a.

Why, wherefore ask •…•…ou this? your Gown,

Jago.

Sir, you are robb'd, for shame put on Your Heart is burst, you have lost half your Soul, Even now, very now, an old black Ram Is tupping your white Ewe: arise, arise, Awake the snorting Citizens with the Bell, Or else the Devil will make a Grandsire of you, arise I sad.

Nor have they yet done, amongst other ribaldry, they tell him.

Jago.

Sir, you are one of those that will not serve God, if the Devil bid you; because we come to do you service, you think us Russi∣ans, you'le have your Daughter covered with a Barba•…•…y Stallion. You'le have your Nephews

neigh to you; you'le have Coursers sor Cousins, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 f•…•…r Germans.

Bra.

What 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 art thou?

Jago.

I am •…•…ne, Sir, that come to tell you, your D•…•…ughter and the Moor, are now making the Beas•…•… with two backs.

In former days there wont to be kept at the Courts of Princes some body in a Fools Coat, that in pure simplicity might let slip some•…•…hing, which made way for the ill news, and blunted the shock, which otherwise might have come too violent up∣on the par•…•…y.

Aristophanes puts Nicias and Demosthenes in the disguise of Servants, that they might, without indecency, be Drunk; And Drunk he must make them that they might with∣out reserve lay open the Arcana of State; And the Knavery of their Ministers.

After King •…•…rancis had been taken Pri∣soner at Pavia. Rabelais tells of a Drun∣ken bout between Gargantua and Fryer John; wh•…•…re the valiant Fryer, bragging over his Cups, amongst his other slights, says he, Had I liv'd in the days of Jesus Christ, I would ha' guarded Mount Olivet that the Jews should never ha' tane him. The Devil fe•…•…ch me, if I would not have

ham string'd those Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that a•…•…ter their good Supper, ran away so •…•…urvily and left their M•…•…ster to shift •…•…or himself. I hate a Man should run away, when he should play at sharps. Pox on't, that I shou'd not be King of France for an hundred years or two. I wou'd curtail all our French Dogs that ran away at Pavia.

This is address, this is truly Satyr, where the preparation is such, that the thing prin∣cipally design'd, falls in, as it only were of course.

But Shakespear shews us another sort of address, his manners and good breeding must not be like the rest of the Civil World. Brabantio was not in M•…•…squerade, was not incognito; Jago well knew his rank and dig∣nity.

Jago.

The Magnifico is much •…•…loved, And hath in his effect, a voice potential As double as the Duke—

But besides the Manners to a Magnifico, humanity cannot bear that an old Gentle∣man in his misfortune should be insulted over with such a rabble o•…•… Skoundrel lan∣guage, when no cause or provocation. Yet thus it is on our Stage, this is our

School of good manners, and the Speculum Vitae.

But our Mag•…•…ifico is here in the dark, nor are yet his Robes on: attend him to the Senate house, and there see the difference, see the effects of Purple.

So, by and by, we find the Duke of Venice with his Senators in Councel, at Midnight, upon advice that the Turks, or Ottamites, or both together, were ready in transport Ships, put to Sea, in order to make a Descent upon Cyprus. This is the posture, when we see Brabantio, and Othello join them▪ By their Conduct and manner of talk, a body must strain hard to fancy the Scene at Venice; And not rather in some of our Cinq-ports, where the Baily and his Fisher-men are knocking their heads together on account of some Whale; or some terrible broil upon the Coast. But to shew them true Venetians, the Ma∣ritime affairs stick not long on their hand; the publick may sink or swim. They will sit up all night to hear a Doctors Commons, Matrimonial, Cause. And have the Merits of the Cause at large laid open to 'em, that they may decide it before they Stir. What can be pleaded to keep awake their atten∣t•…•…on so wonderfully?

Never, sure, was sorm of pleading so tedious and so heavy, as this whole Scene, and midnight entertainment. Take his own words: says the Respondent.

Oth.

Most potent, grave, and reverend Signiors, My very noble, and approv'd good Masters: That I have tane away this old mans Daughter; It is most true: true, I have Married her, The very front and head of my offending, Hath this extent, no more: rude I am in my speech. And little blest with the set phrase of peace, For since these Arms of mine had seven years pith, Till now some nine Moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action in the Tented Field: And little of this great World can I speak, More than pertains to Broils and Battail, And therefore little shall I grace my Cause, In speaking of my self; yet by your gracious patience I would a round unravish d Tale deliver, Of my whole course of love, what drags, what charms What Conjuration, and what mighty Magick, (for such proceedings am I charg'd withal) I won his Daughter.

All this is but Preamble, to tell the Court that He wants words. This was th•…•… Elo∣quence

which kept them up all Night, and drew their attention, in the midst of their alarms.

One might rather think the novelty, and strangeness of the cas•…•… pr•…•…vail'd upon them: no, the Senators do not reckon it s•…•…range at all. Instead of s•…•…arting at the Prodigy, every one is samiliar with Des∣demon•…•…, as he were her own natural Father, rejoice in her good fortune, and wish their own several Daugh•…•…ers as hopefully mar∣ried. Should the Poet have provided such a Husband for an only Daught•…•…r of any no∣ble P•…•…r in England, the Black-amoor must have ch•…•…ng'd his Skin, to look our House of •…•…ords in the Face.

Aeschylus is noted in Aristophanes sor letting Niobe be two or three Acts on the Stage, be•…•…ore she speaks. Our Noble Ve∣n•…•…tian, sure, is in the other more unnatu∣ral •…•…xtreme. His words slow in abun∣dance; no Butter-Quean can be more la∣vi•…•…h. Nay: he is for talking of S•…•…ate▪ As∣•…•…airs too, above any body:

Bra.

Please it your Grace, on to the State Affairs—

Yet is this •…•…W0rd•…•… sensible of his af∣sliction;

be•…•…ore the •…•…nd of the Play his Heart breaks, he di•…•…s.

Gra.

Poor Desdemona, I am glad t•…•…y •…•…∣ther's dead, Thy match was m•…•…rtal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain—

A third part in a T•…•…agedy is the Thoughts: from Venetians, Noblemen, and Senators, we may expect fine Thoughts. Here is a tryal of skill: sor a parting blow, •…•…he Duke, and Brabantio Cap sentences. Where the•…•… shall we seek sor the Thoughts, if we let slip this occasion? says the Duke:

Duk:

Let me speak like your self and lay a Sentence, Which like a greese or step, may help these lover•…•… In•…•…o your favour. When remedies are past the grief is ended, By seeing the worst which late on hopes d•…•…pended, To mourn a mischief that is past and go•…•…, Is the next way to draw more mischief on; What cannot be preserv'd wh•…•…n •…•…ortune 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Patience her injury a Mocker m•…•…kes. The rob'd that smiles, steals something •…•…rom a Thief, He robs himself, that sp•…•…nds an hopeless grief▪

Bra.

So let the Turk of Cypru•…•… us beguile We lose it not so long as we can smile▪ He •…•…ears the sentence well, that nothing bears But the free comfort which from thence he hears, But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow, That to pay grief must of poor patience borrow: These Sentences to Sugar, or to Gall, Being strong on both sides are equivocal. But words are words▪ I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd Heart was pierced through the Ear. Beseech you now to the a•…•…airs of State.

How far wou'd the Queen of Sheba have travell'd to hear the Wisdom of our Noble Venetians? or is not our * 1.2 Brentford a Vene∣tian Colony, for methinks their talk is the very same?

What says Prince Volscius?

Volscius.

What shall I do, what conduct shall I find To lead me through this twy light of my mind?

What says Amaryllis?

Ama.

I hope its slow beginning will portend A forward exit to all future end.

What says Prince Pretty-man?

Pre.

Was ever Son yet brought to this distress, To be, for being a Son, made Fatherless? Ah, you just Gods, rob me not of a Father, The being of a Son take from me rather.

Pa•…•…urge, sadly perplexed, and trying all the means in the World, to be well ad∣vised, in that knotty point whether he should Marry, or no; Amongst the rest, consults Raminigrobis, an old Poet; as one belong∣ing to Apollo; And from whom he might expect something like an Oracle. And he was not disappointed. From Raminigr•…•…bis he had this Answer:

Prenez la, ne la prenez pas. Si vous la prenez, c'est bien fait. Si ne la prenez, en effet Ce sera ouvre par compas. Gallopez, mais allez le pas. Recullez, entrés y de fait. Prenez la, ne.

Take, or not take her, off or on: Hand•…•… dandy is your Lot. When he•…•… name you write, you blot.

'Tis undone, when all is done. Ended, ere it is begun. Never Gallop whilst you Trot. Set not forward, when you run, Nor be single, tho' alone, Take, or not take her, off, or on.

What provocation, or cause of malice our Poet might have to Libel the most Serene Republick, I cannot tell: but certain∣ly, th•…•…re can be no wit in this representa∣tion.

For the Second Act, our Poet having 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his a•…•…fairs at Venice, shews the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 n•…•…xt (I know not how many leagues osf) in the Isl•…•…nd of Cyprus. •…•…he Audi∣•…•…nce must •…•…e there too: And yet our Bays had it never in his h•…•…ad, to make any pro∣vision o•…•… Transport Ships for them.

In the days that the Old Testament was Act•…•…d in Clerkenwell, by the Parish Clerks o•…•… London, the Israelites might pass through the Red sea: but alass, at this time, we have no Moses to bid the Waters make way, and to Usher us along. Well, the absurdi∣ti•…•…s of this kind break no Bones. They may make Fools of us; but do not hurt o•…•…r 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Come a•…•…shoar then, and observe the

Countenance of the People, a•…•…ter the dread∣ful Storm, and their apprehensions from an Invasion by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, their succou•…•… and friends 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and tost, no body knew w•…•…ither. The •…•…irst that came to Land was Cassio▪ his sirst Salutation to the Govern•…•…ur, Mo•…•…tanio, is:

Cas.

Th•…•…nks to the valiant of this Isle: That so approve the Moor, and let the Heavens Give him defence against their Elements, For I have lost him on the dangerous Sea.

To him the Governour speaks, indeed, like a Man in his wits.

Mont.

Is he well Ship•…•…?

The Lieutenant answers thus.

Cas.

His Bark is s•…•…outly Tymber'd, and his Pilot Of very expert, and approv'd allowance, Therefore my hopes (not surfeited •…•…o death) Stand in bold care.

The Governours first question was very proper; his next question, in this posture of af•…•…airs, is:

Mont.

But, good Lieutenant, is our gene∣ral Wiv'd?

A question so remote, so impertinent and absurd, so odd and surprising never entered Bayes's Pericranium. Only the answer may Tally with it.

Cas.

Most fortunately, he hath atcheiv'd a Maid, That Parragons description, and wild fame: One that excels the quirks of blasoning Pens: And in the essential vesture of Creation, Does bear an excellency—

They who like this Authors writing will not be offended to find so much repeated from him. I pretend not here to tax either the Sense, or the Language; those Circum∣stances had their proper place in the Vene∣tian Senate. What I now cite is to shew how probable, how natural, how reason∣able the Conduct is, all along.

I thought it enough that Cassio should be acquainted with a Virgin of that rank and consideration in Venice, as Desdemona. I wondred that in the Senate-house every one should know her so familiarly: ye•…•…,

here also at Cyprus, every body is in a rap∣ture at the name of Desdemona: except only Montanio who must be ignorant; that Cassio, who has an excellent cut in shaping an Answer, may give him the satisfaction:

Mont.

What is she?

Cas.

She that I spoke of: our Captain•…•… Captain, Left in the Cond•…•…ct of the bold Jago, Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts A Sennets speed: great Jove Othello guard, And swell his Sail with thine own powerful breath, That be may bless this Bay with his Tall Ship, And swiftly come to Desdemona's Arms, Give renewed fire to our extincted Spirits, And bring all Cyprus comfort:

Enter Desdemona, &c▪

—O behold, The riches of the Ship is come on shoar. Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your Knees: Hail to the Lady: and the Grace of Heave•…•… Before, behind thee, and on every hand. E•…•…wheel the round—

In the name of phrenzy, what means this Souldier? or would he talk thus, if he m•…•…ant any thing at all? Who can say Shakespear is to blame in his Character of a Souldier? Has he not here done him rea∣son? When cou'd our Tramo•…•…tains talk at this rate? but our •…•…arsey and Garnsey Cap∣tains must not speak so sine things, nor compare with the Mediterranean, or Ga∣risons in Rhodes and Cyprus.

The next thing our Officer does, is to salute •…•…ago's Wise, with this Conge to the Husband,

Cas.

Good Ancient, •…•…ou are welcome, wel∣come Mistriss, Let it not Gall your Patience, good Jago, That I extend my Manners, 'tis my Breeding, That gives me this bold shew of Curtesy.

Jago.

Sir, would she give you so much of her lips, As of her tongue she has bestow'd on me, You'd have enough.

Des.

Alass! she has no speech.

Now follows a long rabble of Jack▪pud∣den farce betwixt •…•…ago and Desdemona, that runs on with all the little plays, jingle,

and trash below the patience of any Coun∣tr•…•…y Kitchin▪maid with her Sweet-heart. The Venetian Donna is hard put to't for pastime! And this is all, when they are newly got on shoar, from a dismal Tempest, and when every moment she might expect to hear her Lord (as she calls him) that she runs so mad after, is arriv'd or lost▪ And moreover.

—In a Town of War, —The peoples Hearts brim•…•…ul of fear.

Never in the World had any Pagan Poet his Brains turn'd at this Monstrous rate. But the ground of all this Bedlam-Bus•…•…oon∣ry we saw, * 1.3 in the case of the French Stro∣lers, the Company for Acting Christs Pas∣sion, or the Old Testament, were Carpen∣ters, Coblers, and illiterate fellows; who found that the Drolls, and Fooleries inter∣larded by them, brought in the rabble, and lengthened their time, so they got Money by the bargain.

Our Shakespear, doubtl•…•…ss, was a great Master in this craft. These Carpenters and Coblers were the guides he followed. And it is then no wonder that we find so much

farce and Apocryphal Matter in his Trage∣dies. Thereby un-hallowing the Theatre, profaning the name of Tragedy; And instead of representing Men and Manners, turning all Morality, good sence, and humanity into mockery and derision.

But pass we to something of a more se∣rious air and Complexion. Othello and his Bride are the first Night, no sooner warm in Bed together, but a Drunken Quarrel hap∣pening in the Garison, two Souldiers Fight; And the General rises to part the Fray: He swears.

O•…•…hel.

Now by Heaven, ▪My blood begins my safer guides to rule, ▪And passion, having my best judgment cool'd, Assays to lead the way: if once I stir, Or do but lift this arm, the best of you Shall sink in my rebuke: give me to know How this •…•…oul rout began; who set it on, And he that is approv'd in this offence, Tho' he had twin'd with me both at a birth, Should lose me: what, in a Town of War, Yet wild, the peoples Hearts brimful of fear, To manage private, and domestick quarrels, In Night, and on the Court, and guard of safety, 'Tis Monstrous, Jago, who began?

In the days of yore, Souldiers did not swear in this fashion. What should a Soul∣dier say •…•…arther, when he swears, unless he blaspheme? action shou'd speak the rest. What follows must be ex ore gladii; He is to rap out an Oath, not Wire-draw and Spin it out: by the style one might judge that Shakespears Souldiers were never bred in a Camp, but rather had belong'd to some A•…•…idavit▪Office. Consider also through∣out this whole Scene, how the Moori•…•…h General proceeds in examining into this Rout; No Justice Clod-pate could go on with more Phlegm and deli•…•…eration. The very first night that he lyes with the Di∣vine Desdemona to be thus interrupted, might provoke a Mans Christian Patience to swear in another style. But a Negro General is a Man of strange Mettle. Only his Venetian Bride is a match for him. She understands that the Souldiers in the Garison are by th'ears together: And pre∣sently she at midnight, is in amongst them.

Desd.

What's the matter there?

Othel.

All's well now Sweeting— Come away to Bed—

In the beginning of this s•…•…cond Act, be∣fore

they had lain together, Desdemon•…•… was said to be, o•…•…r Captains Captain; Now they are no sooner in Bed together, but Jago is adyising Cassio in these words.

Jago.

—Our Generals Wi•…•…e is now the Ge∣neral, I may say so in this respect, for that he hath devoted, and given up himself to the con∣templation, mark, and devotement of her parts and graces. Confess your self freely to her, importune her; she'll help to put you in your place again: she is so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, that, she holds it a vice in her goodness, not to do more than she is re∣quested. This broken joint between you and her Husband, intreat her to splinter—

And he says afterwards.

Jago.

—'Tis m•…•…st easie The inclining Desdemona to subdue, In any honest▪ suit. She's fram'd as fruitful, As the free Elements: And then for her To win the Moo•…•…▪ were't to renounce his Baptism, All seals and •…•…mbols of redeemed sin, •…•…is soul is so enfe•…•…ter'd to her love, That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may make, unmake, do what she list: Even as her appetite shall play the God With his weak function—

This kind of discourse implies an expe∣rience and long conversation, the Honey∣Moon over, and a Marriage of some stand∣ing. Would any man, in his wits, talk thus of a Bridegroom and Bride the first night of their coming together?

Yet this is necessary for our Poet; it would not otherwise •…•…erve his turn. This is the source, the foundation of his Plot; hence is the spring and occasion for all the Jealousie and bluster that ensues.

Nor are we in better circumstances for Roderigo. The last thing said by him in the former Act was,

Rod.

—I'll go s•…•…ll all my Land.

A •…•…ir Estate is sold to put money in his P•…•…rse, for this adventure. And •…•…o here, the next day.

Rod.

I do follow here in the Chace, not like a Hound that 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but one that fills up the cry: My Money is almost spent. I have been tonight exceedingly well cudgell'd, I think the issue will be, I shall have so much experience for my pains, and so no Money a•…•… all, and with a little more wit return to Ve∣•…•…

The Venetian squire had a good riddance for his Acres. The Poet allows him just time to be once drunk, a very conscionable rec∣koning!

In this Second Act, the face of a•…•…airs could in truth be no other, than

—In a Town of War, Yet wild, the peoples Hearts brim-ful of sear.

But nothing either in this Act, or in the rest that follow, shew any colour or com∣plexion, any resemblance or proportion to that face and posture it ought to bear. Should a Painter draw any one Scene of this Play, and write over it, This is a Town of War; would any body believe that the Man were in his senses? would not a Goose, or Dromedary for it, be a name as just and suitable? And what in Painting would be absurd, can never pass upon the World for Poetry.

Cassio having escaped the Storm comes on shoar at Cyprus, that night gets Drunk, Fights, is turn'd out from his Command, grows sob•…•…r again, takes advice how to be restor'd, is all Repentanc•…•… and Mortification: •…•…et before he sleeps, is in the Morning at his Generals door with a noise of Fiddles,

and a Droll to introduce him to a little Mouth-speech with the Bride.

Cassio.

Give me advantag•…•… of some brief discourse With Desdemona alone.

Em.

•…•…ray you come in, I will bestow you, where you shall have time To speak your bosom freely.

So, they are put together: And when he had gone on a good while speaking his bosom, Desdemona answers him.

Des.

Do not doubt that, before Emilia here, I give thee warrant of thy place; assure thee, If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it, To the last article—

Then after a ribble rabble of fulsome im∣pertinence. She is at her Husband slap dash:

Desd.

—Good love, call •…•…im back.

Othel.

Not now, sweet Desdemona, some other time.

Desd.

But shall't shortly?

Othel.

The sooner, sweet, for you.

Desd.

Shall't be to-night at Supper?

Othel.

No, not tonight.

Desd.

To-Morrow Dinner the•…•…?

Othel.

I shall not dine at home, I meet the Captains at the Citadel.

Desd.

Why then to morrow night, or Tuesday (mor•…•…, Or night, or Wednesday mor•…•…?

After forty lin•…•…s more, at this rate, they part, and then co•…•…es the wonderful Scene, where J•…•…go by shr•…•…s, half words, and ambiguous reflections, works Othell•…•… up to be Jealous. One might think, after what we have seen, that there needs no great cunning, no great poetry and address to make the Moor Jealous. Such impatience, such a rout for a handsome young fellow, the very morning after her Marriage must make him either to be jealous, or to take her for a Changeling, below his Jealousie. After this Scene, it might strain the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 skill to reconcile the couple, and allay the Jealousie. Jago now can only actum agere, and vex the audience with a naus•…•…ous re∣pe•…•…ition.

Whence comes it then, that this is the top scene, the Scene that raises Othello above all other Tragedies on our 〈◊〉〈◊〉? It is purely from the Action▪ fro•…•… the

Mops and the Mows the Grimace, the Grins and Gesticulation. Such scenes as this have made all the World run after Harlequi•…•… and Scaramuccio.

The several degrees of Action were amongst the Ancients distinguish'd by the Cothurnus, the Soccus, and by the Planipes.

Had this scene been represented at old Rome, Othello and Jago must have quitted their Buskins; They must have played bare∣foot: the spectators would not have been content without seeing their Podometry; And the Jealousie work at the very Toes of 'em▪ Words, be they Spanish, or Polish, or any inarticulate sound, have the same effect, they can only serve to distinguish, and, as it were, beat time to the Action. But here we see a known Language does wofully encumber, and clog the operation: as either forc'd, or heavy, or tri•…•…ling, or incoherent, or improper, or most what improbable. When no words interpose to spoil the conceipt, every one interprets as he likes best. So in that memorable di•…•…∣pute betwixt Panurge and our English Phi∣losopher in Rabelais, perform'd without a word speaking; The Theologians, Physi∣cians, •…•…nd Surgeons, made one inference▪ the Lawyers, Civil•…•…ans, and Canonists, drew

another conclusion more to their mind.

Othello the night of his arrival at •…•…yprus, is to consummate with Desdemona, they go to Bed. Both are rais'd and run into the Town amidst the Souldiers that were a fighting: then go to Bed again, that morn∣ing he sees Cassio with her; She importunes him to restore Cassio. Othello shews nothing of the Souldiers Mettle: but like a tedious, drawling, tame Goose, is gaping after any paultrey •…•…nsinuation, labouring to be jealous; And catching at every blown sur∣mize.

Jago.

My Lord, I see you are moved.

Oth.

No, not much moved. Do not think but Desdemona is honest▪

Jag.

Long live she so, and long live you to think so.

Oth.

And yet how Nature erring from it self,

Jag.

I, There's the point: as to be •…•…old with you, Not to affect many proposed Matches Of her own clime, complexion, and degree, Wherein we see, in all things, Nature tends, Fye, we may smell in such a will most rank, Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural—

The Poet here is certainly in the right, and by consequence the foundation of the Play

must be concluded to be Monstrous; And the constitution, all over, to be most rank,

Foul disproportion, thoughts unnatural.

Which instead of moving pity, or any passion Tragical and Reasonable, can produce nothing but horror and aversion, and what is odious and grievous to an Audience. After this fair Mornings work, the Bride enters, drops a Cursey.

Desd.

How now, my dear Othello, Your Dinner, and the generous Islanders By you invited, do attend •…•…our presence.

Oth.

I am to blame.

Desd.

Why is your speech so faint? Are you not well?

Oth.

I have a pain upon my Fore-head, dear.

Michael Cassio came not from Venice in the Ship with Desdemona, nor till this Morning could be suspected of an opportu∣nity with her. And 'tis now but Dinner time; yet the Moor complains of his Fore∣head. He might have set a Guard on Cassio, or have lockt up Desdemona, or have ob∣serv'd their carriage a day or two longer. He is on other occasions phlegmatick

enough: this is very hasty. But after Din∣ner we •…•…ave a wonderful flight:

Othel.

What sense had I of her stoln hours •…•…f lust? I saw't not, thought it not, it harm'd not me: I slept the next night well▪ was free and merry, I found not Cassio's kisses on her lips—

A little after this, says he,

Oth.

Give me a living reason that she's disloyal.

Jago.

—I lay with Cassio lately, And being troubled with a raging Tooth, I could not sleep; There are a kind of men so loose of Soul, That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs, One of this kind is Cassio: In sleep I heard him say: sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves: And then, Sir, wo•…•…'d he gripe, and wring my hand, Cry o•…•…t, sweet Creature; and then kiss me hard, As if he plu•…•… up kisses by the roots, That grew •…•…pon my Lips, then laid his Leg Over my Thigh, and •…•…gh'd, and kiss'd, and then Cry'd, c•…•…sed fa•…•…, that gave thee to the Moor.

By the Rapture of Oth•…•…llo, one might think that he raves, is not of •…•…ound Memo∣ry, forgets that h•…•… has not yet been two nights in the Matrimonial Bed with his Desde•…•…ona. But we find Jago, who shoul•…•… have a better memory, forging his lies af∣ter the v•…•…ry same Mod•…•…l. The very night of their Marriag•…•… at V•…•…nice, the Moor, and also Cassio, were sent away to Cyprus. In the Second Act, Othello and his Bride go the first time to Bed; The Third Act opens the next morning▪ The parties have been in view to this moment. We saw the oppor∣tunity which was given for Cassio to speak hi•…•… bosom to her, once, indeed, might go a great way with a Venetia•…•…. But once, will not do the Poets business; The Audience must sup∣pose a great many •…•…outs, to make the plot operate. They must deny their senses, to reconcile it to common sense: or make it any way consistent, and hang together.

No•…•…, for the most part, are the single thoughts more consistent, than is the oeco∣nomy: The Indians do as they ought in painting the Devil White: but says Othello:

Oth.

—Her name that •…•…as as fresh As Dian's Visage, is now begrim'd and black, As mine▪ own face—

There is not a Monky but understands Nature better; not a Pug in Barbary that has not a truer taste of things.

Othel.

—O now for ever Farewel the tranquil mind, farewel content; Farewel the plumed troop, and the big Wars, That make Ambition Vertue: O farewel, Farewel the neighing Steed, and the shrill Trump, The spirit stirring Drum, th' ear-piercing Fief, The royal Banner, and all quality, Pride, Pomp, and Circumstance of glorious War, And O ye Mortal Engines, whose wide throats Th'i•…•…mortal Joves great clamours counterseit, Farewel, Othello's occupation's gone.

These lines are recited here, not for any thing Poetical in them, besides the sound, that pleases. Yet this sort of imagery and ampli•…•…ication is extreamly taking, where it is just and natural. As in Gorboduck, when a young Princess on whose fancy the personal gallantry of the Kings Son then slain, had made a strong impression, thus, out of the abundance of her imagination, pours forth her grief▪

Marcella:

—Ah noble Prince! how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce, and trampling Steed, Shining in Armour bright before the Tilt, Wearing thy Mistress sleeve ty'd on thy helm. Then charge thy staff, to please thy Ladies Eye, That bow'd the head piece of thy friendly Foe? How oft in arms, on Horse to bend the Mace, How oft in arms, on foot, to break the Spear; Which never now these Eyes may see agen?

Notwithstanding that this Scene had pro∣ceeded with fury and bluster sufficient to make the whole Isle ring of his Jealousy, yet is Desdemona diverting her self with a paultry buffoon and only solicitous in quest of Cassio:

Desd.

Seek him, bid •…•…im come hither, tell him— Where shou'd I lose that Handcherchief, E∣milia? Believe me I had rather lose my Purse, Full of Crusado's: And but my noble Moor Is true of mind, and made of no such baseness, As Jealous Creat•…•…res are; it were enough To put him to ill thinking.

Em.

Is he not Jealous?

Des•…•….

Who he? I think the Sun, where he was born, Drew all such humours from him.

By this manner of speech one wou'd ga∣ther the couple had been yoak'd together a compet•…•…nt while, what might •…•…e say more, had they cohabited, and had been Man and Wi•…•…e •…•…even years?

She spies the Moor.

Desd.

I will not leave him now, Till Cassio is recall'd. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with yo•…•…▪

Othel.

—Lend me thy Handkerchief.

Desd.

—This is a trick to put me from my suit. I pray let Cassio be receiv'd agen.

Em.

—Is not this man Jealous? —'Tis not a year or two shews us a man—

As if for the first year or two, Othell•…•… had not been jealous? This third Act be∣gin•…•… in the morning, at noon she drops the Ha•…•…dkerchief, after dinner she misses it, and then follows all this outrage and ho•…•…ri∣ble clutter about it. If we believe a small

D•…•…mosel in the last Sc•…•…ne of this Act, this day is effectually seven days.

Bianca.

—What keep a week away! seven days, seven nights, Eightscore eight hours, and lovers absent hours, More tedious than the Dial eightscore times. Oh weary reckoning!

Our Poet is at this plunge, that whether this Act contains the compass of one day, of seven days, or of seven years, or of all together, the repugnance and absurdity would be the same. For Othello, all the while, has nothing to say or to do, but what loudly▪ proclaim him jealous: her friend and con•…•…ident Emilia again and again rounds her in the Ear that the Man is Jea∣lous: yet this Venetian dame is neither to see, nor to hear; nor to have any sense or understanding, nor to strike any other note but Cassio, Cassio.

The Scotchman hearing trut S•…•…ot, trut Scot, when he saw it came from a Bird, checkt his Choler, and put up his Swerd again, with a Braad O God, G. if th`aa'dst ben a Maan, as th'art ane Green Geuse, I sud ha stuck tha' to thin heart. Desdemona

and that Parrot might pass for Birds of a Feather; and if Sauney had not been more generous than Othello, but co•…•…tinued to in∣sult the poor Creature after this beastly ex∣ample, he would have given our Poet as good stuff to work upon: And his Tragedy of the Green Geuse, might have deserv'd a better audience, than this o•…•… Desdemona, or The Moor of Venice.

ACT IV.

Enter Jago and Othello▪

Jago.

Will you think so?

Othel.

Think so, Jago.

Jago.

What, to kiss in private?

Othel.

An unauthorised kiss.

Jago.

Or to be naked with her friend a-bed, An hour or more, not meaning any harm?

Othel.

Naked a-bed, Jago, and not mean harm?—

At this gross rate of trifling, our Gene∣ral and his Auncient March on most heroi∣cally; till the Jealous Booby has his Brains turn'd; and falls in a Trance. Would any imagine this to be the Language of Vene∣tia•…•…s, of Souldiers, and mighty Captains?

no B•…•…tholomew Droll cou'd subsist upon su•…•…h tr•…•…sh. But •…•…o, a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 never •…•…∣ed in Tragedy.

Jago.

Stand you while a part— —Inca•…•…e y•…•…ur self; And mark the Jeers, the Gibes, and notable scorns, That dwell in every region of his •…•…ace, For I will make him tell the •…•…ale a new, Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when, •…•…e has, and is again t•…•… •…•…pe your Wife: I say, but mark his gesture—

With this d•…•…vice Othello withdraws. Says Jago aside.

Jago.

Now will I question Cassio of Bianca▪ A Huswife— That doats on Cassio— He when he hears of her cannot refrain From the excess of Laughter— As he shall •…•…mile, O•…•…hello •…•…all go mad, And his unbooki•…•…h jealousy must co•…•…ster Poor Cassio's smiles, gesture, and light be viour Quite in the wrong—

So to work they go: And Ot•…•…ello is as wise a commentator, and makes his applica∣tions pat, as heart cou'd wish—but I wou'd not expect to find this Scene acted nearer than in Southwark Fair. But the Handkerchief is brought in at last, to stop all holes, and close the evidence. So now being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with the proof, they come to a resolution, that the o•…•…enders shall be murdered.

Othel.

—But yet the pity of it, Jago, a•…•… the pity.

Jago.

If you be so fond over her iniquity give her Patent to osfend. For if it touches not •…•…ou, it comes near no Body.

Do it not with poison, strangle her in her Bed; Even •…•…he Bed she has contaminated.

Oth.

Good, good, the Justice of it pleases, very good.

Jago.

And for Cassio, let me be his un∣dertaker—

Jago had some pretence to be discontent with Othello and Cassio: And what passed •…•…itherto, was the operation of revenge. Desdemona had never done him h•…•…rm, al∣ways kind to him, and to his Wife; was

his Country-woman, a Dame of quality: for him to abet her Murd•…•…r, shews nothing of a Souldier, nothing of a Man, nothing of Nature in it. The Ordinary of New gate never had the like M•…•…ster to pa•…•…s under his examination. Can it be any diversion to see a Rogue beyond what the Devil ever finish'd? Or wou'd it be any instruction to an Audience? Jago cou'd desire no better than to set Cassio and Oth•…•…lio, his two Ene∣mies, by the Ears together; so he might have been reveng'd on them both at once: And chusing for his own •…•…hare, the Murder of Desdemona, he had the opportunity to play booty, and save the poor harmless wretch. But the Poet must do every thing by contraries: to surprize the Audience still with something •…•…orrible and prodi∣gious, beyond any human imagination. At this rate he must out do the Devil, to be a Poet in the rank with Shakespear.

Soon after this, arrives from Venice, Ludovico, a noble Cousin of Desdemona, presently she is at him also, on the behalf of Cassio.

Desd.

Cousin there's sallen between him and my Lord An unkind breach, but •…•…ou shall make all well.

Lud.

Is there division 'twixt my Lord and Cassio.

Desd.

A most unhappy one, •…•… wou'd do much To attone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.

By this time, we are to •…•…elieve the couple have been a week or t•…•…o Married: And Othello's Jealousie that had rag•…•…d so loudly, and had been so uneasie to •…•…imself, must have reach'd her knowledge. The Audi∣ence have all heard him more p•…•…ain with her, than was needful to a V•…•…netian capacity: And yet she must still be impertinent in her suit for Cassio, well, this Magnifico comes from the Doge, and Senators, to displace Othello.

Lud.

—Deputing Cassio in his Government.

Desd.

Trust me, I am glad on't.

Oth.

Indeed.

Desd.

My •…•…ord.

Oth.

I am glad to see you mad.

Desd.

How, sweet Othello.

Oth.

Devil.

Desd.

I have not deserved this.

O•…•…h.

O •…•…evil, Devil— Out of my •…•…ight.

Desd.

I will not stay to offend you.

Lud.

Truly, an obedient Lady.

I do beseech your Lordship call •…•…er back.

Oth

Mistress.

De•…•…d.

My Lord.

Oth.

What would •…•…ou with her Sir?

•…•…ud.

Who, I, my Lord?

Oth.

I, y•…•…u did wish that I wou'd m•…•…ke her turn. Sir, she can turn, and turn, a•…•…d yet go on, And turn agen, and she can weep, Sir, weep. And she is o•…•…edient, as you say, obedient: Very obedient—

Lud.

What strike your Wife?

Of what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and blood does o•…•…r Poet make these noble Venetian•…•…? the men without Gall; the Women without ei•…•…er Brains or Sense? A Senators Daughter runs away with this Black-amoor; the Govern∣ment employs this Moor to de•…•…end them against the •…•…urks, so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not the Mo•…•…rs Marriage at present, but the danger over, •…•…er Father gets the Moor 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sends his Kinsman, Seignior Lu•…•…ovico, to Cyp•…•…us with the Commission for a new Gene•…•…al; who, at his arrival, •…•…inds the Moor cal•…•…ing the Lady his •…•…inswoman, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Strum∣pet, and kicking her: what says the Mag∣nifico?

•…•…ud.

My Lord this would not be believ▪d i•…•… Venice, T•…•…o▪ I shou'd swear I saw't, 'tis very much; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her amends: she weeps.

The M•…•…or has no bod•…•… to take his part, no body of his Colour: Ludovico has the new Governour •…•…assio, and all his Country∣m•…•…n Venetians about him. What Poet wou'd give a villanous Black amoor this A•…•…cendant? What Tramontain could fan∣cy the Venetians so low, so despicable, or so patien•…•…? this outrage to an injur'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Divine Desdemona, migh•…•… in a cold•…•…r Climate have provoked some body to be her Champion: but the Italians may well con∣clude we have a strange Genius for Poetry. In the next Scene Othello is examining the supposed Bawd; then follows another s•…•…orm of horrour and outrage against the poor Chicken, his Wife. Some Drayman or drunken T•…•…ker might possibly treat his drab at this sort of rate, and mean no harm by it: but for his excellency, a My lord General, to Serenade a Senator's Daughter with such a volly of scoundrel silthy Lan∣guage, is sure the most absurd Maggot that •…•…ver bred from any Poets addle Brain.

And she is in the right, who tells us,

Emil.

—A Begger in his Drink, Cou'd not have laid such terms upon his Callet.

This is not to describe passion. Seneca had another notion in the Case:

Parvae loquuntur curae, ingentes stupent.

And so had the Painter, who drew Aga∣memnon with his Face covered. Yet to make all worse, her Murder, and the man∣ner of it, had before been resolv'd upon and concerted. But nothing is to provoke a Ve∣netian; she takes all in good part; had the Scene lain in Russia, what cou'd we have expected more? With us a Tinkers Trull wou'd be Nettled, wou'd repartee with more spirit, and not appear so void of spleen.

Desd.

O good Jago, What shall I do to win my Lord agen?

No Woman bred out of a Pig-stye, cou'd talk so meanly. After this, she is call'd to Supper with Othello, Ludovico, &c. after that comes a filthy sort of Pastoral Scene,

where the Weddi•…•…g Sheets, and Song of Willow, and her M•…•…thers Maid, poor Bar∣ba•…•…a, are not the least moving things in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But that we may not be kept too long in the dumps, nor the me∣lan•…•…holy Scenes lye too heavy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on our 〈◊〉〈◊〉, this Act gives us for a •…•…arewell, the salsa, O picante, some quib∣bles, and smart touches, as Ovid had 〈◊〉〈◊〉:

Est & in obscaenos 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Tragoedi•…•… ri•…•…us.

The last Act begins with Jago and Rode∣rig•…•…; Who a li•…•…le before had b•…•…n upon the husf:

Rod.

I say it is not very well: I will make my self known to Desdemona; if she will r•…•…∣turn me my Jewels, I will •…•…ive over my suit, and rep•…•…nt my unlawful sollicitation, if not, ass•…•…re yo•…•…r self, I ll seek satis•…•…action of you.

Roderigo, a Noble Venetian had sought D•…•…sdemona •…•…n Marriage, is troub•…•…ed to •…•…ind the Moor had got her srom him, advises with Jago, who •…•…headles him to sell his Es•…•…ate, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 go ov•…•… •…•…he Sea to Cyprus, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to C•…•…ckold Othello, ther•…•… ha∣ving

cheated Roderigo of all his Mon•…•…y and Jewels, on pretence of presenting them to Desdemona, our Gallant grows angry, and would have satisfaction from Jago; who sets all right, by •…•…lling him Ca•…•…sio is to be Governour, O•…•…hello is going with Desde∣mona into 〈◊〉〈◊〉; to prevent this, you are to murder Cassio, and then all may be well.

Jago.

•…•…e goes into Mauritania, and takes with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingred here •…•…y some accident, where∣in none c•…•…n be so d•…•…terminate, as the remo∣ving •…•…f Cassio.

Had Roderigo been one of the Ba•…•…diti, he might not muc•…•… stick at the Murder. But why Roderigo should take this for pa•…•…ment, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his person where the prospect o•…•… advantage is so very uncertain and remote, no body c•…•…n imagine. It had need be a super-subtle Venetian that this Plot will pass upon▪ Then af•…•…er a little spurt of villany and Murder, we are brought to the most lament•…•…ble, that ever appear'd on any Stage▪ A noble Venetian Lady is to be mur∣dered by our Poet; in sober sadness, purely for being a Fool. No Paga•…•… Poet but wou'd

have found some Machine for her delive∣rance. Pegasus wou'd have strain'd hard to have brought old Perseus on his back, time enough, to rescue this Andromeda from so foul a Monster. Has our Christi∣an Poetry no generosity, nor bowels? Ha, Sir Lancelot! ha St. George! will no Ghost leave the shades for us in extremity, to save a distressed Damosel?

But for our comfort, however felonious is the Heart, hear with what soft language, he does approach her, with a Candle in his Hand:

Ot•…•….

Put out the light and then put out the light; If I quench thee, thou flaming Minister, I can again thy former light restore—

Who would call him Barbarian, Monster, Savage? Is this a Black-amoor?

Soles occidere & redire possunt—

The very Soul and Quintessence of Sir George Etheridge.

One might think the General should not glory much in this action, but make an hasty work on't, and have turn'd his Eyes away from so unsouldierly

an Execution: yet is he all pause and deli∣beration; handles her as calmly: and is as careful of her Souls health, as it had been her Father Confessor. Have you prayed to Night, Desdemona? But the suspence is necessary, that he might have a convenient while so to roul his Eyes, and so to g•…•…aw his nether lip to the spectators. Besides the greater cruelty—sub tam lentis maxillis.

But hark, a most tragical thing laid to her charge.

Oth.

That Handkerchief, that I so lov'd, and gave thee, Thou gav'st to Cassio.

Desd.

No by my Life and Soul; Send for the man and ask him.

Oth.

—By Heaven, I saw my Hanker∣chief in his hand— —I saw the Ha•…•…dkerchief.

So much ado, so much stress, so much passion and repetition about an Handkerchief! Why was not this call'd the Tragedy of the Handkerchief? What can be more absurd than (as Quintilian expresses it) in parvis litibus has Tragoedias movere? We have heard of Fortunatus his Purse, and of the Invisible Cloak, long ago wom thread bare,

and stow'd up in the Wardrobe of obsolete Romances: one might think, that were a fit er place for this Handkerchief, than that it, at this time of day, be worn on the Stage, to raise every where all this clutter and turmoil. Had it been Desdemona's Garter, the Sagacious Moor might have smelt a Rat: but the Handkerchief is so re∣mote a trifle, no Booby, on this side Mau∣ritania, cou'd make any consequence from it.

We may learn here, that a Woman never loses her Tongue, even tho' after she is stifl'd.

Desd▪

O f•…•…lsly, falsly murder'd.

Em.

Sweet Desdemona, O sweet Mistress, speak.

Desd.

A guiltless death I dye▪

Em.

O who has done the deed?

Desd.

No body, I my self, farewel. Commend me to my kind Lord, O farewel▪

This Desdemona is a black swan; or an old Black-amoor is a bewitching Bed-fellow. If this be Nature, it is a laschete below what the English Language can express.

For Lardella, to make love, li•…•…e an Hum∣ble Bee, was, in the Rehearsal, thought a fancy odd enough.

But hark what follows:

Oth.

—O heavy hour! Methinks it shou'd be now a huge Eclipse Of Sun and Moon, and that the affrighted globe Shou'd yawn at Alteration.

This is wonderful. Here is Poetry to ele∣vate and amuse. Here is sound All-suffi∣cient. It wou'd be uncivil to ask Flamstead, if the Sun and Moon can both together be so hugely eclipsed, in any heavy hour whatsoever. Nor must the Spectators con∣sult Gresham Colledge, whether a body is naturally frighted till he Yawn agen. The Fortune of Greece is not concern'd with these Matters. These are Physical circumstances a Poet may be ignorant in, without any harm to the publick. These slips have no influence on our Manners and good Life; which are the Poets Province.

Rather may we ask here what unnatural crime •…•…esdemona, or her P•…•…rents had com∣mitted, to bring this Judgment down upon her; to Wed a Black-amoor, and inno•…•…ent to be thus cruelly murder'd by •…•…im. What instruction can we make out of this Cata∣strophe? Or whtiher must 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reslection

lead us? Is not this to envenome and sour our spirits, to make us repine and grumble at Providence; and the government of the World? If this be our end, what boots it to be Vertuous?

Desdemona dropt the Handkerchief, and missed it that very day after her Marriage▪ it might have been rumpl'd up with her Wedding sheets: And this Night that she lay in her wedding sheets, •…•…he Fairey Nap∣kin (whilst Othello was stifling her) might have started up to disarm his fury, and stop his ungracious mouth. Then might she (in a Traunce for fear) have lain as dead. Then might he, believing her dead, touch'd with remorse, have honestly cut his own Throat, by the good leave, and with the applause of all the Spectators. Who might thereupon have gone home with a quiet mind, admiring the beauty of Provi∣dence; fairly and truly represented on the Theatre.

Oth.

—Why, how shou'd she be murdered?

Em.

Alas, who knows?

Oth.

You heard her say her sels it was not •…•….

Em.

She did so, I must needs report a truth.

Oth.

She's like a liar gone to burn in Hell. 'Twas I that did it.

Em.

O, the more Angel she! And you the blacker Devil.

Oth.

She turn'd to folly, and she was a•…•… Whore.

Em.

Thou dost belye her, an•…•… thou art a Devil.

Oth.

She was false as Water.

Em.

Thou art rash as Fire, To say that she was false: O she wa•…•… heavenly true.

In this kind of Dialogue they continue for forty lines farther, before she bethinks her self, to cry Murder.

Em.

—Help, help, O help, The Moor has kill'd my Mistress, murder, Murder.

But from this Scene to the end of the Play we meet with nothing but blood and butchery, described much-what to the styl•…•… of the last Speeches and •…•…onfessions of the per∣sons executed at Tyburn: with this dif•…•…er∣ence, that there we have the fact, and the due course of Justice, whereas our Poet against all Justice and Reason, against all Law, Humanity and Nature, in a barba∣rous arbitrary way, executes and makes

havock of his subjects, Hab-nab, as they come to hand. Desdemona dropt her Hand∣kerchief; therefore she must be stisl'd. Othello, by law to be broken on the Wheel, by the Poets cunning escapes with cutting his own Throat. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for I know not what, comes off with a broken shin. Jago murders his Benefactor Roderigo, as this were poetical gratitude. Jago is not yet kill'd, because there yet never was such a villain alive. The Devil, if once he brings a man to be dipt in a deadly sin, lets him alone, to take his course: and now when the Foul •…•…iend has done with him, our wise Authors take the sinner into their poetical serv•…•…ce; there to accomplish him, and do the Devi•…•…s drudgery.

Philosophy •…•…ells us it is a principle in the Nature of Man to be grateful.

History may tell us that John an Oaks, John a Stiles, or Jago were ungrateful; Poetry is to follow N•…•…ture; P•…•…ilosophy must be his guide: history and fact in par∣ticular cases of John an Oaks, or John of St•…•…les, are no warrant or direction for a Poet. Therefore Arist•…•…tle is always tell∣in•…•… •…•…s that Poety is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, is more general and •…•…stracted, is led more by the Philosophy, the reason

and nature of things, than History: which only records things higlety, piglety, right or wrong as they happen. Hi•…•…ory might without any preamble or difficulty, say that Jago was ungrateful. Philosophy th•…•…n calls him unnatural; But the Poet is not, without h•…•…ge labour and preparation to ex∣pose •…•…he Monster; •…•…nd after shew the Di∣vine Vengeance executed upon him. The Poet is not to add 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Murder to his in∣gratitude: •…•…e has not •…•…ntidote enough for the Poison: his •…•…ll and Furies are not pu∣nishment 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for one single c•…•…ime, of that bulk and aggravation.

Em.

O •…•…hou dull Moor, that Handkerchief thou spea•…•…est on, I found •…•…y 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and did give my Husband: For often with a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 earnestne•…•…, (More •…•…han indeed 〈◊〉〈◊〉'd to such a trifle) He beg'd of me to steal 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Here we see the meanest woman in the Play takes this Handkerchief for a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be∣low he•…•… Husband to trouble his head about it. Yet w•…•… •…•…nd, it entered into our Poets' he•…•…d, to make a Tr•…•…gedy of this •…•…rifle.

Then for the unraveling of the Plot; as they call it, never was old deputy Recor∣de•…•…▪

in a Country Town, with his specta∣cles in summoning up the evidence, at such a puzzle: so blunder'd, and be doultefied: as is our Poet, to have a good riddance: And get the Catastrophe off his hands.

What can remain •…•…ith the Audience to carry •…•…ome with them from this sort of Poetry, for their use and edification▪ how can it work, unless (instead of settling the mind, and purging our passions) to delude our senses, disorder our thoughts▪ addle our brain, pervert our affections, hair our imaginations, corrupt our appetite, and fill our head with vanity, confusion, Tin∣tamarre, and Jingle-jangle, beyond what all the Parish Clarks of Lo•…•…don, with their old Testament farces, and interludes, in Richard the seconds time cou'd ever pretend to? Our only hopes, for the good of their Souls, can be, that these people go to the Play∣house, as they do to Church, to sit still, look on one another, make no reflection, nor mind the Play, more than they would a Sermon.

There is in this Play, some burl•…•…sk, some humour, and ramble of Comical Wit, some shew, and some Mimickry to divert the specta∣tors: but the tragical part is, plainly none o∣ther, than a Bloody Farce, without salt or sa∣vour.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Su•…•…on in Tib.
• * 1.2

  Rehe•…•…rsal▪
• * 1.3

  Page 54.