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 conjured 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 Iago: what he will do with it Heaven knows, not I; I nothing but to please his fantasy.

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

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

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

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