Interpolation in the original text recently discovered in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, England. Believed to be by Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford. I have rendered the non-Shakespearean text in bold : 
 OTHELLO 
 I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me; 
 Lend me thy handkerchief. 
 DESDEMONA 
 Here, my lord. 
 OTHELLO 
 That which I gave you. 
 DESDEMONA 
 I have it not about me. 
 OTHELLO 
 Not? 
 DESDEMONA 
 No, indeed, my lord. 
 OTHELLO 
 That is a fault. That handkerchief 
 Did an Egyptian to my mother give; 
 She was a charmer, and could almost read 
 The thoughts of people: she told her, while 
 she kept it, 
 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father 
 Entirely to her love, but if she lost it 
 Or made gift of it, my father's eye 
 Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt 
 After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me; 
 And bid me, when my fate would have me wive, 
 To give it her. I did so: and take heed on't; 
 Make it a darling like your precious eye; 
 To lose't or give't away were such perdition 
 As nothing else could match. 
 DESDEMONA 
 Slow down, big guy, are we still talking 
 about an hand kerchief? I mean this is not 
 a major heart attack, prithee, for fleet am I 
 and might get you a box of Kleenex before 
 you can quoth Jack Robinson thrice, my liege. 
 OTHELLO 
 The point that is not, dame. 
 DESDEMONA 
 So say ye, my liege, and yet not so I. 
 OTHELLO 
 Not so what? 
 DESDEMONA: 
 I. 
 OTHELLO: 
 Aye? or eye? as in a needle, which a point has 
 the very point have I lost. 
 DESDEMONA: 
 Shall jog I thy memory, write back 
 the lost thought that beetleth in thy lobes 
 like sheep without a fudging clue? 
 OTHELLO : 
 Aye dame. Do so. 
 DESMEMONA 
 Thou wert going on about a handkerchief. 
 Sorry, AN handkerchief. This grammar eftsoons 
 bedizens my inner eye, aye, I saith. 
 OTHELLO: 
 Ah yes, of course! Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out 
 o' the way? 
 (text then continues as the 1622 quarto