IV.iii.94 (493,6) our former having] Our former allowance of experience.

IV.iii.107 (493,7) heaven me such usage send] —­heaven me such uses send,] Such is the reading of the folio, and of the subsequent editions; but the old quarto has,

  —­such usage send.—­

Usage is an old word for custom, and, I think, better than uses.

V.i.11 (494,1) I have rubb’d this young quat almost to the sense] In some editions,

  I’ve rubb’d this young gnat almost to the sense,
  And he grows angry.]

This is a passage much controverted among the editors.  Sir T. Hanner reads quab, a gudgeon; not that a gudgeon can be rubbed to much sense, but that a man grossly deceived is often called a gudgeon.  Mr. Upton reads quail, which he proves, by much learning, to be a very choleric bird.  Dr. Warburton retains gnat, which is found in the early quarto.  Theobald would introduce knot, a small bird of that name.  I have followed the text of the folio, and third and fourth quartos.

A quat in the midland counties is a pimple, which by rubbing is made to smart, or is rubbed to sense.  Roderigo is called a quat by the same mode of speech, as a low fellow is now termed in lay language a scab.  To rub to the sense, is to rub to the quick.

V.i.37 (496,2) No passage?] No passengers?  No body going by?

V.i.42 (499,4) a heary night] A thick cloudy night, in which an ambush may be commodiously laid.

V.ii.1 (499,4) It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul;—­Let me not name it] The abruptness of this soliloquy makes it obscure.  The meaning, I think, is this:  “I am here (says Othello in his mind) overwhelmed with horror.  What is the reason of this perturbation?  Is it want of resolution to do justice?  Is it the dread of shedding blood?  No; it is not the action that shocks me, but _it is the cause, it is the cause, my soul; let me not name it to you, ye chaste stars; it is the cause_.”

V.ii.20 (500,7)

        I must weep,
  But they are cruel tears:  this sorrel’s heavenly;
  It strikes, where it doth love.—­She wakes—­]

This tenderness, with which I lament the punishment which justice compels me to inflict, is a holy passion.

I wish these two lines could be honestly ejected.  It is the fate of Shakespeare to counteract his own pathos.

V.ii.65 (502,8) A murder, which I thought a sacrifice] This line is difficult. Thou hast hardened my heart, and makest me kill thee with the rage of a murderer, when I thought to have sacrificed thee to justice with the calmness of a priest striking a victim.

It must not be omitted, that one of the elder quartos reads, thou dost stone thy heart; which I suspect to be genuine.  The meaning then will be, thou forcest me to dismiss thee from the world in the state of the murdered without preparation for death, when I intended that thy punishment should have been a sacrifice atoning for thy crime.