Othello was speedily on the scene, and with prompt decision at once silenced the uproar. Then he asked for an explanation, which no one seemed willing to give.
“Honest Iago, that lookest dead with grieving, speak: who began this? On thy love, I charge thee.”
Iago mumbled some confused excuses, which were certainly not intended to deceive the General. Cassio, on being appealed to, now completely sobered by the shock, answered simply, “I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak.” Montano declared that he was too much injured to say anything; Othello’s officer, Iago, could tell him everything; he was not conscious of having done or said anything amiss.
Othello now began to lose patience, and knowing the serious danger of such a disturbance in the present unsettled condition of the island, he curtly commanded Iago to let him know how the brawl began, and who set it on.
With feigned reluctance, but with much secret satisfaction, Iago gave an account of what had happened, taking care to heighten his own ignorance of the affair, and ostentatiously pretending to try to shield Cassio from blame.
Othello’s sentence was short and sharp.
“I know, Iago, thy honesty and love do mince this matter, making it light to Cassio.—Cassio, I love thee, but never more be officer of mine.”
When Othello and the others had retired, Iago, seeing Cassio standing as if dazed, went up and asked him if he were hurt.
“Ay, past all surgery,” was the mournful response.
“Marry, Heaven forbid!” said Iago, startled.