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It gives me wonder great as my content 

 To fee you here before me. Oh, my foul's joy ! 

 If after ev'ry temped come fuch calms. 

 May the winds blow 'till they have waken'd death : 

 And let the labouring bark climb hills of feas 

 ^ Olympus high, and duck again as low 

 As Hell's from Heaven. 



In this fine fpeech the tranfport of his pafllon fwells his 

 foul, and pours itfelf forth in fplendid and glowing expreffions. 



When his jealoufy feems to have gained the afcendant over 

 his love, nothing can be more fublime as well as pathetic than 

 the fentiments which it draws forth : 



Oh, now for ever 

 Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content, 

 Farewell the plumed troops, and the big war 

 That makes ambition virtue. Oh, farewell ! 



In the fcene where he murders Defdemona we may difcover 

 how clofe an affinity there is between the pathetic and the 

 fublime : 



Yes, 'tis Jimilia. — By and by. — She's dead. 



"Tis like fhe comes to fpeak of Caffio's death. — 



The noife was nigh. — Ha ! no more moving ! 



Still as the grave !— Shall fhe come in ? Wer't good ? 



I think (he ftirs again — No. — ^What's beft ? 



If flie come in, ftie'U fure fpeak to my wife ! 



My wife ! My wife ! I have no wife ! 



Oh infupportable ! Oh heavy hour ! 



Methinks it (liould be now a huge eclipfe 



Of fun and moon ; 'and that th' affrighted globe 



Should yawn at alteration. 



The 



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