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.