“if I were the Moor I wouldn't want to be Iago.”

“I am glad I have found this napkin.This was her first remembrance from the Moor,My wayward husband hath a hundred timesWooed 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 herTo kiss and talk to. I’ll ha’ 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.”

“How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Iago”

“I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughterand the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.”

“Were I the Moor I would not be Iago.In following him I follow but myself;Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,But seeming so for my peculiar end.For when my outward action doth demonstrateThe native act and figure of my heartIn compliment extern, ’tis not long afterBut I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at. I am not what I am”

“Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you...I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are making the beast with two backs.”

“Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.”