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 give't Jago; what he'll do with it,
Heav'n knows, not I:
I nothing, but to please his fantasie. Enter Jago.

Jago.
How now? what do you here alone?

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

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

Æmil.
Ha?

Jago.
To have a foolish wife.

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

Jago.
What handkerchief?

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

Jago.
Hast stollen it from her?

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

Jago.
A good wench, give it me.

Æmil.

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

Jago.
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.

Jago.
Be not you known on't:
I have use for it. Go, leave me— [Exit Æmilia.
I will in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin,
And let him find it. Trifles light as air
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong,
As proofs of holy writ. This may do something.
The Moor already changes with my poisons:
‡ ^noteDang'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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