EMILIA. Do not you chide. I have a thing for you. 

IAGO. A thing for me? It is a common thing— 

EMILIA. Ha? 

IAGO. To have a foolish wife. 

EMILIA. O, is that all? What will you give me now For that same handkerchief? 

IAGO. What handkerchief? 

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

IAGO. Hast stol’n it from her? 

EMILIA. No, faith, she let it drop by negligence, And, to the advantage, I being here, took ’t up. Look, here it is. 

IAGO. A good wench, give it me. 

EMILIA. What will you do with’t, that you have been so earnest To have me filch it? 

IAGO. [Snatching it.] Why, what’s that to you? 

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

IAGO. Be not acknown on’t, I have use for it. Go, leave me. 

 [Exit Emilia.]

Emilia

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 poison: Dangerous conceits are in their natures 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. 

 Enter Othello.

Othello

 Look, where he comes. Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of 

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