Henry Fielding, 1743 (1707-1754)
I then observed Shakespeare standing between Betterton and Booth, and deciding a difference between these two great actors concerning the placing an accent in one of his lines: this was disputed on both sides with a warmth which surprised me in Elysium, till I discovered by intuition that every soul retained its principal characteristic, being, indeed, its very essence. The line was that celebrated one in Othello—
Put out the light, and then put out the light, according to Betterton. Mr. Booth contended to have it thus:—
Put out the light, and then put out the light.
I could not help offering my conjecture on this occasion, and suggested it might perhaps be—
Put out the light, and then put out thy light.
Another hinted a reading very sophisticated in my opinion—
Put out the light, and then put out thee, light.
Making light to be the vocative case. Another would have altered the last word, and read—
Put out thy light, and then put out thy sight.
But Betterton said, if the text was to be disturbed, he saw no reason why a word might not be changed as well as a letter, and instead of “put out thy light,” you may read “put out thy eyes.” At last it was agreed on all sides to refer the matter to the decision of Shakespeare himself, who delivered his sentiments as follows: “Faith, gentlemen, it is so long since I wrote the line, I have forgot my meaning. This I know, could I have dreamt so much nonsense would have been talked and writ about it, I would have blotted it out of my works; for I am sure, if any of these be my meaning, it doth me very little honour.”
He was then interrogated concerning some other ambiguous passages in his works; but he declined any satisfactory answer; saying, if Mr. Theobald had not writ about it sufficiently, there were three or four more new editions of his plays coming out, which he hoped would satisfy every one: concluding, “I marvel nothing so much as that men will gird themselves at discovering obscure beauties in an author. Certes the greatest and most pregnant beauties are ever the plainest and most evidently striking; and when two meanings of a passage can in the least balance our judgments which to prefer, I hold it matter of unquestionable certainty that neither of them is worth a farthing.”
From his works our conversation turned on his monument; upon which Shakespeare, shaking his sides, and addressing himself to Milton, cried out, “On my word, brother Milton, they have brought a noble set of poets together; they would have been hanged erst have convened such a company at their tables when alive.” “True, brother,” answered Milton, “unless we had been as incapable of eating then as we are now.”
“A Journey from this World to the Next,” Chapter viii. Miscellanies, 1743.