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.]
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.
Look, where he comes. Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow’dst yesterday.
OTHELLO.
Ha! ha! false to me?
IAGO.
Why, how now, general? No more of that.
OTHELLO.
Avaunt! be gone! Thou hast set me on the rack.
I swear ’tis better to be much abus’d
Than but to know’t a little.