1 Get me some poison, Iago; this night.
2 The object poisons sight, Let it be hid.
3 Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even the bed she hath contaminated.
4 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.
5 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.
6 The thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards, And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgement cannot cure.
7 Call up her father, Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, And though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, As it may lose some color.