ACT V. 15 SCENE II.-" A bedchamber," &c. that the horrid action of tearing out Gloster's have here this advantage, that by the pillars which divided the little central theatre from the proscenium, or proper stage, not only could a double group be presented, but it could be partially concealed; and thus two scenes might be played, which could be wholly comprehended, although not everything in the smaller frame was expressly and evidently seen." It appears to us not very material to determine whether tainly the elevation of the "little central Ulrici is right about the "broad steps." Cer theatre" was not considerable-it was some- what elevated," as Tieck observes. anomalies which are presented to us in the has said, "I'll smell thee on the tree," he Soft,-by and by:-let me the curtains draw," he steps down. The dialogue between Emilia and Othello at first goes on without any apparent consciousness on the part of Emilia of Desdemona's presence. When Desdemona has spoken Emilia withdraws the curtain of the secondary stage. When Montano, Gratiano, between Iago and Emilia, without Montano and and Iago enter, a long dialogue takes place Gratiano perceiving "what is the matter." Had would have been no time for this dialogue. Desdemona been upon the stage proper, there Her murder would have been at once dis covered. The actors now get over the difficulty by having a four-post bedstead, with curtains closely drawn. When, however, Emilia ascends the central stage, and exclaims, "My mistress here lies murther'd in her bed," a double group is presented. Emilia is in the In chamber with Desdemona; Othello and the others remain on the stage proper; Montano then follows Iago out, who has previously rushed to the central stage, and stabbed his wife. Gratiano remains upon the proper stage; but why then does Montano order Gratiano to guard the door without? Othello has entered into the secondary stage, and he speaks from within the curtain to Gratiano, "I have another weapon in this chamber, It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brook's temper ;- Gratiano, still remaining upon the proper stage, 16 SCENE II.-" Like the base Indian." The controversy as to reading Indian or Ju dean, and who was the base Judean, occupies six pages of the variorum editions. Theobald maintained that he was "Herod, who, in a fit of blind jealousy, threw away such a jewel of a wife as Mariamne was to him." Steevens brings forward an old story of a Jew, which he has read in some book, who threw a pearl into the Adriatic. Steevens will not have the Indian, because he thinks base is an improper epithet. Malone rejects him, because the word tribe appears to have a peculiarly Hebrew signification. To show how far conjecture may be carried, we may mention that a correspondent wishes to impress upon us that the allusion was to Judas Iscariot. Boswell, in a very sensible note, shows that tribe meant in Shakspere's day kindred; that base is used in the sense of ignorant; and, what is very important, that two poets after Shakspere have described the Indians as casting away jewels of which they knew not the value. Habbington, in his 'Castara,' has these lines: "So the unskilful Indian those bright gems And Sir Edward Howard, in 'The Woman's Who with no more concern I 'Il cast away A correspondent adds the following valuable illustration to those already given :— In turning over the poems of Carew I lighted upon these two lines:- "I'll deal with no such Indian fool as sells Gold, pearls, and precious stones for beads and bells." The reading "Judean" always puts into my head a passage in the 6th Satire of Juvenal—the points of resemblance being that there is a "base Judean," and a precious stone in both. "Adamas notissimus et Berenices In digito factus pretiosior :-hunc dedit olim Barbarus incestæ, dedit hunc Agrippa, sorori." There is such a seeming similarity between the two, that I wonder some "Judean "-ite has not attempted to press the latter into his service somehow or other. COSTUME. THE general costume of Venice, both male and female, as well as the official habits of the doge and senators, at the close of the sixteenth century, have been described in the prefatory notice to The Merchant of Venice.' We have only to add that the figure engraved at p. 310 is from Vecellio's often quoted work, and represents the identical dress worn by prince Veniero, when he was raised to the dignity of general of the Venetian army, on the very oc casion which Shakspere has selected for the like appointment of his "valiant Moor," namely, the Turkish war, A.D. 1570. The Stradiots (Estradiots, or Stratigari), mentioned by Howell, were Greek troops, first employed by the Venetians, and afterwards by Charles VIII. of France. The figure of one of these picturesque auxiliaries is engraved at p. 286 from Boissard's Habitus Variarum Orbis Gentium,' 1581. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. THE Life of Tymon of Athens' was first published in the folio collection of 1623. The text, in this first edition, has no division into acts and scenes. We have reason to believe that, with a few exceptions, it is accurately printed from the copy which was in the possession of Heminge and Condell; and we have judged it important to follow that copy with very slight variations. In the 'Studies' we have entered into a minute examination of this play, for the purpose of expressing our belief that it was founded by Shakspere upon some older play, of which much has been retained; and that our poet's hand can only be traced with certainty in those scenes in which Timon appears. The Timon of Shakspere is not the Timon of the popular stories of Shakspere's day. The 28th novel of 'The Palace of Pleasure' has for its title "Of the strange and beastly nature of Timon of Athens, enemy to mankind." According to this authority, “he was a man but by shape only"-he lived "a beastly and churlish life." Neither was the Timon of Plutarch the Timon of Shakspere. The Greek biographer indeed, tells us, that he was angry with all men, and would trust no man, "for the unthankfulness of those he had done good unto, and whom he took to be his friends;" but that he was represented as "a viper and malicious man unto mankind, to shun all other men's companies but the company of young Alcibiades, a bold and insolent youth." The Timon of Plutarch, and of the popular stories of Shakspere's time, was little different from the ordinary cynic. The Timon of Shakspere is in many respects essentially different from any model with which we are acquainted, but it approaches nearer, as Mr. Skottowe first observed, to the Timon of Lucian than the commentators have pointed out. The character of Shakspere's misanthrope presents one of the most striking creations of his originality. The vices of Shakspere's Timon are not the vices of a sensualist. It is true that his offices have been oppressed with riotous feeders,-that his vaults have wept with drunken spilth of wine,-that every room "Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy." But he has nothing selfish in the enjoyment of his prodigality and his magnificence. He himself truly expresses the weakness as well as the beauty of his own character: "Why, I have often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what a precious comfort 't is to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes!" Charles Lamb, in his contrast between Timon of Athens' and Hogarth's 'Rake's Progress' has scarcely done justice to Timon: "The wild course of riot and extravagance, ending in the one with driving the Prodigal from the society of men into the solitude of the deserts; and, in the other, with conducting Hogarth's Rake through his several stages of dissipation into the still more complete desolations of the mad-house, in the play and in the picture are described with almost equal force and nature." Hogarth's Rake is all sensuality and selfishness; Timon is essentially highminded and generous: he truly says, in the first chill of his fortunes, "No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given." In his splendid speech to Apemantus in the fourth Act, he distinctly proclaims, that in the weakness with which he had lavished his fortunes upon the unworthy, he had not pampered his own passions:— "Hadst thou, like us, from our first swath, proceeded Who had the world as my confectionary; The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men the The all-absorbing defect of Timon root of those generous vices which wear the garb of virtue is the entire want of discrimination (by which he is also characterised in Lucian's dialogue). Shakspere has seized upon this point, and held firmly to it. He releases Ventidius from prison,-he bestows an estate upon his servant, - he lavishes jewels upon all the dependants who crowd his board. That universal philanthropy, of which the most selfish men sometimes talk, is in Timon an active principle; but let it be observed that he has no preferences a most remarkable example of the profound sagacity of Shakspere. Had he loved a single human being with that intensity which constitutes affection in the relation of the sexes, and friendship in the relation of man to man, he would have been exempt from that unjudging lavishness which was necessary to satisfy his morbid craving for human sympathy. With this key to Timon's character, it appears to us that we may properly understand the "general and exceptless rashness" of his misanthropy. The only relations in which he stood to mankind are utterly destroyed. In lavishing his wealth as if it were a common property, he had believed that the same common property would flow back to him in his hour of adversity. "O, you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should ne'er have need of them? they were the most needless creatures living should we ne'er have use for them: and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves." His false confidence is at once, and irreparably, destroyed. If Timon had possessed one friend with whom he could have interchanged confidence upon equal terms, he would have been saved from his fall, and certainly from his misanthropy. |