Seeing Roderigo struggle so pitifully in the decision of whether or not to take the lieutenant's hand, Iago was about to help him in some way. However, the fool suddenly and miraculously seemed to know what to do, as if heaven had given him some divinely inspired instruction. Iago could not help but raise his brow imperceptibly at Roderigo's success in deceit, though it was a simple one. At the same time, he felt a slight twinge of annoyance at Roderigo's pompous behavior-ha! As if any general worth his sword would entrust such a bumbling clown with any task. As if Roderigo cared at all about Emilia-he probably could not have even given her name before now.
But none of that was any matter. Roderigo must not be revealed, else questions would be asked-and Iago did not entirely trust the youth not to say something that would incriminate them both.
Cassio nodded politely to Roderigo. "You have served your purpose well, sir," the lieutenant said to the "soldier" while making a futile attempt to brush Bianca off of him.
So this was his Bianca, for Cassio had called her thus (Iago would not have been surprised, had Cassio been acquainted with more than one Cypriot courtesan). Truly, it was disgusting that this woman hung about the undeserving lieutenant so yearningly, when she had proved that she had at least some wit. There was something inherently repulsive and vulgar about an desperate woman. In following with this thought, Iago hoped that Emilia would not make too much of a fuss when he met with her again, for if she did, she would put herself in an unfavorable light and make fools of both of them.
He envisioned, briefly, Emilia's tearstained face as her coral lips trembled and she extended shaking fingertips out toward him in imploration. By heaven, he hated the vision-it made him feel guilt in spite of himself. But it was not his fault. If Emilia was wise, she would learn to find someone else to put her faith in-and yet, neither was that a suitable option, for Iago felt his innards contort with jealousy at the thought of his wife holding anyone in more faith than she did him…
"I tell you again, fair Bianca, there is no need of you!" Cassio cried in laughter, pulling Iago from his thoughts. It seemed that Cassio and his inamorata had been all this while in argument. "I know not what else to say. Go to, woman! I have told you, you need not worry; attend to your own affairs and leave others to theirs. I will see you at a later time."