Æmil.
I am glad, I have found this napkin;
This was her first remembrance from the Moor;
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Woo'd me to steal it. But she so loves the token,
For he conjur'd her, she should ever keep it,
That she reserves it evermore about her,
To kiss and talk to. I'll have the work ta'en out,
And giv't Iago;
What he'll do with it, heav'n knows, not I:
I nothing know, but for his fantasy.

Enter Iago.

Iago.
How now? what do you here alone?

Æmil.
Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.

Iago.
You have a thing for me?
It is a common thing—

Æmil.
Ha?

Iago.
To have a foolish wife.

Æmil.
Oh, is that all? What will you give me now
For that same handkerchief?

Iago.
What handkerchief?

Æmil.
What handkerchief?
Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;
That which so often you did bid me steal.

Iago.
Hast stolen it from her?

Æmil.
No; but she let it drop by negligence;
And, ^{5 note}to th' advantage, I, being here, took 't up.
Look, here 'tis,

Iago.
A good wench, give it me.

Æmil.
What will you do with 't, you have been so earnest
To have me filch it?

Iago.
Why, what is that to you? [Snatching it.

Æmil.
If 't be not for some purpose of import,
Give 't me again. Poor lady! she'll run mad
When she shall lack it.

Iago.
^{6 note}

The Moor already changes with my poisons:
Dang'rous conceits are in their nature poisons,
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste;
But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur.—I did say so.

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