Iago stared down at Roderigo's crumpled, whimpering form balefully, feeling naught but contempt as he gazed upon the man he professed to be the dear friend of. That facade was shattered now, he knew...cracked at the very least...and yet, what did that matter? No longer was he in any position to enact his intended perfidy; no longer could he claim to have the Moor's utter trust and confidence. Honest Iago had been banished this day...why not Iago, friend of fops, with him?
"Up you get," he said quietly, concealing a silent scoff at the girlish tears that streamed from Roderigo's bright brown eyes, the light of love in them extinguished by a haze of fear and pain. Grabbing the man gently by both shoulders, he hauled him upright, examining his arm dispassionately... That he had done much the same thing yesternight, with Emilia's face held between his hands in lieu of Roderigo's arms...the irony was not lost on him. Not in the least.
"Dry your tears, man!" he continued, pushing himself away from Roderigo as he observed him to be unharmed. "You have upon you no grievous hurts; you are not a child in need of a mother's comfort after a slight fall. Off with you."