OTHELLO: [Advancing] How shall I murder him, Iago?
IAGO: Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?
OTHELLO: O Iago!
IAGO: And did you see the handkerchief? 
OTHELLO: Was that mine?
IAGO: Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes
the foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he
hath given it his whore.
OTHELLO: I would have him nine years a-killing. 
A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!
IAGO: Nay, you must forget that.
OTHELLO: Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned
to-night; for she shall not live: no, my heart is turned to
stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the world 
hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by an emperor's
side and command him tasks.
IAGO: Nay, that's not your way.
OTHELLO: Hang her! I do but say what she is: so delicate with
her needle: an admirable musician: O! she will sing the savageness 
out of a bear: of so high and plenteous wit and invention:--
IAGO: She's the worse for all this.
OTHELLO: O, a thousand thousand times: and then, of so
gentle a condition!
IAGO: Ay, too gentle. 
OTHELLO: Nay, that's certain: but yet the pity of it, Iago!
O Iago, the pity of it, Iago!
IAGO: If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her patent
to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes near nobody.
OTHELLO: I will chop her into messes: cuckold me! 
IAGO: O, 'tis foul in her.
OTHELLO: With mine officer!
IAGO: That's fouler.
OTHELLO: Get me some poison, Iago; this night:
I'll not expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty 
unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.
IAGO: Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even
the bed she hath contaminated.
OTHELLO: Good, good: the justice of it pleases: very good.
IAGO: And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker: you shall 
hear more by midnight.
OTHELLO: Excellent good.[A trumpet within.]
What trumpet is that same?
IAGO: Something from Venice, sure. 'Tis Lodovico
Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.
Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants.
LODOVICO: Save you, worthy general!