Iago. Hast stolen 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 is that to you?
Emilia. If it be not for some purpose of import,
Give’t me again. Poor lady, she’ll run mad