Notes to Shakespeare, Volume III: The Tragedies

In Short

This volume presents a meticulous series of critical annotations and observations on Shakespeare’s tragedies, including Macbeth, King Lear, Othello, and Hamlet. The work functions as a linguistic and philosophical autopsy; it seeks to clarify obscure vocabulary, propose emendations for corrupted text, and judge the dramatic integrity of the plays. It has endured because it captures a brilliant, unsentimental intellect grappling with the tension between Shakespeare’s genius and the messy realities of textual history, offering a window into the evolution of critical thought during the Enlightenment.

The Story

The progression of this work is not a narrative of events, but a journey through the act of reading itself. It begins with an editorial preface that acknowledges the limitations of the critic, admitting that the emotional resonance of a play—such as the childhood terror inspired by the Ghost in Hamlet—is often unpredictable. The argument then moves through the tragedies, play by play, focusing on specific lines that have been muddied by time, poor printing, or archaic usage. In Macbeth, the focus falls on the psychological state of a murderer, analyzing the internal tension of his soliloquies and the validity of his metaphors. The text moves to Othello, where the critic dissects the moral decay of Iago and the tragic vulnerability of Cassio, ultimately concluding that the play’s narrative structure is nearly perfect in its progression.

The middle section shifts to the sprawling, sometimes chaotic landscape of King Lear, where the critic navigates the difficulty of explaining characters who are driven to the brink of madness. There is a palpable sense of the critic’s frustration with the textual corruption of the early editions, which forces him to act as both detective and judge. He debates the authenticity of certain passages, such as the questionable authorship of Timon of Athens, which he dismisses as likely spurious due to its stylistic inconsistencies. The arc concludes with a series of "General Observations" on each play. Here, the critic steps back from the minutiae of word definitions to offer a final assessment of the drama’s moral force. He emphasizes the necessity of truth in representation, often critiquing the plays when their internal logic fails to mirror the complexities of human nature. The final pages acknowledge the limitations of the editorial process itself, conceding that no amount of study can fully capture the elusive spirit of the author, yet insisting that the effort is necessary to preserve the clarity of the work for future generations.

How It Unfolds

The editorial confrontation The critic establishes his ground by scrutinizing the language of Macbeth, offering bold suggestions to repair what he views as corrupted or obscure lines. He moves from questioning the rhythm of a soliloquy to analyzing the exact meaning of epithets like "dusty death."

The moral and structural evaluation As the analysis shifts to Othello, the tone turns toward the psychological. He evaluates the strength of the secondary characters, arguing that the intensity of their roles proves the depth of the play’s construction.

The struggle with textual corruption In King Lear, the focus intensifies on the difficulty of reconstructing the original intent of the author. He provides transcriptions of corrupted passages to show the reader the sheer labor required to make sense of old, damaged editions.

The dismissal of the spurious The critic tackles Timon of Athens with a dispassionate eye, using logic and historical context to argue against its legitimacy. He asserts that the style simply does not match the Shakespearean standard, regardless of what the title page claims.

The final assessment The book closes by synthesizing these varied notes into a broader philosophy of drama. The critic admits that his own feelings are often at odds with the play’s reputation, yet he holds fast to the requirement that drama must remain grounded in believable human experience.

The People

The central figures are the characters themselves, viewed as psychological case studies. Macbeth appears as a man consumed by the "wickedness of his design," his ambition and frenzy serving as a warning to the audience. Othello is examined through the lens of those surrounding him: Iago, the embodiment of evil whom the critic finds consistently "hated and despised"; Cassio, whose ruin is a result of his failure to resist an "insidious invitation"; and Aemilia, whose moral ambiguity reflects the complexity of the human spirit. King Lear is presented as a tragic figure whose "derogate" circumstances lead to a profound, often bewildering descent. Finally, the critic himself emerges as a prominent character—a man who is both a passionate student of Shakespeare and a stern, occasionally skeptical judge who refuses to accept a line as "good" simply because it has appeared in print for centuries.

In Its Own Voice

"Of this passage an alteration was once proposed by me, of which I have now a less favourable opinion, yet will insert it, as it may perhaps give some hint to other critics."

(An example of the critic’s humble, transparent approach to the act of editing.)

"The description is certainly not mean, but I am far from thinking it wrought to the utmost excellence of poetry."

(The critic’s honest, unsentimental assessment of the famous cliff scene in King Lear.)

"There is always danger, lest wickedness, conjoined with abilities, should steal upon esteem, though it misses of approbation."

(The critic’s moral conclusion regarding the character of Iago in Othello.)

What It's Really About

At its core, this work is an inquiry into the nature of textual truth and the moral responsibility of art. The critic is concerned with the "propriety of fictions"—the idea that for a tragedy to be successful, it must adhere to a recognizable logic of human behavior. He asks what happens to a text when it is filtered through the errors of time and the negligence of printers. By testing Shakespeare against the standards of reason, the critic seeks to understand if the plays provide a mirror to reality, or if they are merely "vain and illusive" inventions that lead the reader astray.

Why Read It Today

Readers who love the intersection of history, language, and philosophy will find this volume fascinating. It is not a casual or light read; it is a dense, academic exercise that demands patience with eighteenth-century idioms and a willingness to follow long, analytical debates about commas and word choices. You will feel the weight of the critic’s era—a time when editors felt a heavy duty to "fix" the past.

What stays with you is the critic's refusal to be awed by reputation. He is not a sycophant; he praises Shakespeare when he finds brilliance, but he is equally quick to point out where the writing is "intolerable" or "confused." It is an honest, often prickly encounter with a legendary mind. For those who want to see how one of the greatest critics in the English language engaged with his most formidable peer, this book is essential. Be prepared, however, for the occasional frustration of reading notes on plays where the text itself has been so mangled that the critic admits, "I know not what to propose." It is a testament to the fact that great literature is never static, but an ongoing conversation between the author, the editor, and the reader.