<h2><SPAN name="chap15"></SPAN>TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL</h2>
<p>Sebastian and his sister Viola, a young gentleman and lady of Messaline,
were twins, and (which was accounted a great wonder) from their birth they
so much resembled each other that, but for the difference in their dress,
they could not be known apart. They were both born in one hour, and in one
hour they were both in danger of perishing, for they were shipwrecked on
the coast of Illyria, as they were making a sea-voyage together. The ship
on board of which they were split on a rock in a violent storm, and a very
small number of the ship’s company escaped with their lives. The
captain of the vessel, with a few of the sailors that were saved, got to
land in a small boat, and with them they brought Viola safe on shore,
where she, poor lady, instead of rejoicing at her own deliverance, began
to lament her brother’s loss; but the captain comforted her with the
assurance that he had seen her brother, when the ship split, fasten
himself to a strong mast, on which, as long as he could see anything of
him for the distance, he perceived him borne up above the waves. Viola was
much consoled by the hope this account gave her, and now considered bow
she was to dispose of herself in a strange country, so far from home; and
she asked the captain if he knew anything of Illyria.</p>
<p>“Aye, very well, madam,” replied the captain, “for I was
born not three hours’ travel from this place.”</p>
<p>“Who governs here?” said Viola. The captain told her Illyria
was governed by Orsino, a duke noble in nature as well as dignity.</p>
<p>Viola said, she had heard her father speak of Orsino, and that he was
unmarried then.</p>
<p>“And he is so now,” said the captain; “or was so very
late for, but a month ago, I went from here, and then it was the general
talk (as you know what great ones do, the people will prattle of) that
Orsino sought the love of fair Olivia, a virtuous maid, the daughter of a
count who died twelve months ago, leaving Olivia to the protection of her
brother, who shortly after died also; and for the love of this dear
brother, they say, she has abjured the sight and company of men.”</p>
<p>Viola, who was herself in such a sad affliction for her brother’s
loss, wished she could live with this lady who so tenderly mourned a
brother’s death. She asked the captain if be could introduce her to
Olivia, saying she would willingly serve this lady. But he replied this
would be a hard thing to accomplish, because the Lady Olivia would admit
no person into her house since her brother’s death, not even the
duke himself. Then Viola formed another project in her mind, which was, in
a man’s habit, to serve the Duke Orsino as a page. It was a strange
fancy in a young lady to put on male attire and pass for a boy; but the
forlorn and unprotected state of Viola, who was young and of uncommon
beauty, alone, and in a foreign land, must plead her excuse.</p>
<p>She having observed a fair behavior in the captain, and that he showed a
friendly concern for her welfare, intrusted him with her design, and he
readily engaged to assist her. Viola gave him money and directed him to
furnish her with suitable apparel, ordering her clothes to be made of the
same color and in the same fashion her brother Sebastian used to wear, and
when she was dressed in her manly garb she looked so exactly like her
brother that some strange errors happened by means of their being mistaken
for each other, for, as will afterward appear, Sebastian was also saved.</p>
<p>Viola’s good friend, the captain, when he had transformed this
pretty lady into a gentleman, having some interest at court, got her
presented to Orsino under the feigned name of Cesario. The duke was
wonderfully pleased with the address and graceful deportment of this
handsome youth, and made Cesario one of his pages, that being the office
Viola wished to obtain; and she so well fulfilled the duties of her new
station, and showed such a ready observance and faithful attachment to her
lord, that she soon became his most favored attendant. To Cesario Orsino
confided the whole history of his love for the lady Olivia. To Cesario he
told the long and unsuccessful suit he had made to one who, rejecting his
long services and despising his person, refused to admit him to her
presence; and for the love of this lady who had so unkindly treated him
the noble Orsino, forsaking the sports of the field and all manly
exercises in which he used to delight, passed his hours in ignoble sloth,
listening to the effeminate sounds of soft music, gentle airs, and
passionate love-songs; and neglecting the company of the wise and learned
lords with whom he used to associate, he was now all day long conversing
with young Cesario. Unmeet companion no doubt his grave courtiers thought
Cesario was for their once noble master, the great Duke Orsino.</p>
<p>It is a dangerous matter for young maidens to be the confidantes of
handsome young dukes; which Viola too soon found, to her sorrow, for all
that Orsino told her he endured for Olivia she presently perceived she
suffered for the love of him, and much it moved her wonder that Olivia
could be so regardless of this her peerless lord and master, whom she
thought no one could behold without the deepest admiration, and she
ventured gently to hint to Orsino, that it was a pity he should affect a
lady who was so blind to his worthy qualities; and she said:</p>
<p>“If a lady were to love you, my lord, as you love Olivia (and
perhaps there may be one who does), if you could not love her in return)
would you not tell her that you could not love, and must she not be
content with this answer?”</p>
<p>But Orsino would not admit of this reasoning, for he denied that it was
possible for any woman to love as he did. He said no woman’s heart
was big enough to hold so much love, and therefore it was unfair to
compare the love of any lady for him to his love for Olivia. Now, though
Viola had the utmost deference for the duke’s opinions, she could
not help thinking this was not quite true, for she thought her heart had
full as much love in it as Orsino’s had; and she said:</p>
<p>“Ah, but I know, my lord.”</p>
<p>“What do you know, Cesario?” said Orsino.</p>
<p>“Too well I know,” replied Viola, “what love women may
owe to men. They are as true of heart as we are. My father had a daughter
loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love your lordship.”</p>
<p>“And what is her history?” said Orsino.</p>
<p>“A blank, my lord,” replied Viola. “She never told her
love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy she
sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief.”</p>
<p>The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this question
Viola returned an evasive answer; as probably she had feigned the story,
to speak words expressive of the secret love and silent grief she suffered
for Orsino.</p>
<p>While they were talking, a gentleman entered whom the duke had sent to
Olivia, and he said, “So please you, my lord, I might not be
admitted to the lady, but by her handmaid she returned you this answer:
Until seven years hence the element itself shall not behold her face; but
like a cloistress she will walk veiled, watering her chamber with her
tears for the sad remembrance of her dead brother.”</p>
<p>On hearing this the duke exclaimed, “Oh, she that has a heart of
this fine frame, to pay this debt of love to a dead brother, how will she
love when the rich golden shaft has touched her heart!”</p>
<p>And then he said to Viola: “You know, Cesario, I have told you all
the secrets of my heart; therefore, good youth, go to Olivia’s
house. Be not denied access; stand at her doors and tell her there your
fixed foot shall grow till you have audience.”</p>
<p>“And if I do speak to her, my lord, what then?” said Viola.</p>
<p>“Oh, then,” replied Orsino, “unfold to her the passion of my
love. Make a long discourse to her of my dear faith. It will well become you to
act my woes, for she will attend more to you than to one of graver
aspect.”</p>
<p>Away then went Viola; but not willingly did she undertake this courtship, for
she was to woo a lady to become a wife to him she wished to marry; but, having
undertaken the affair, she performed it with fidelity, and Olivia soon heard
that a youth was at her door who insisted upon being admitted to her presence.</p>
<p>“I told him,” said the servant, “that you were sick. He
said he knew you were, and therefore he came to speak with you. I told him
that you were asleep. He seemed to have a foreknowledge of that, too, and
said that therefore he must speak with you. What is to be said to him,
lady? for he seems fortified against all denial, and will speak with you,
whether you will or no.”</p>
<p>Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired be
might be admitted, and, throwing her veil over her face, she said she
would once more hear Orsino’s embassy, not doubting but that he came
from the duke, by his importunity. Viola, entering, put on the most manly
air she could assume, and, affecting the fine courtier language of great
men’s pages, she said to the veiled lady:</p>
<p>“Most radiant, exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell me
if you are the lady of the house; for I should be sorry to cast away my
speech upon another; for besides that it is excellently well penned, I
have taken great pains to learn it.”</p>
<p>“Whence come you, sir?” said Olivia.</p>
<p>“I can say little more than I have studied,” replied Viola,
and that question is out of my part.”</p>
<p>“Are you a comedian?” said Olivia.</p>
<p>“No,” replied Viola; “and yet I am not that which I
play,” meaning that she, being a woman, feigned herself to be a man.
And again she asked Olivia if she were the lady of the house.</p>
<p>Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having more curiosity to see her
rival’s features than haste to deliver her master’s message,
said, “Good madam, let me see your face.” With this bold
request Olivia was not averse to comply, for this haughty beauty, whom the
Duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight conceived a passion
for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.</p>
<p>When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said, “Have you any
commission from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?” And
then, forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven long years, she
drew aside her veil, saying: “But I will draw the curtain and show
the picture. Is it not well done?”</p>
<p>Viola replied: “It is beauty truly mixed; the red and white upon
your cheeks is by Nature’s own cunning hand laid on. You are the
most cruel lady living if you lead these graces to the grave and leave the
world no copy.”</p>
<p>“Oh, sir,” replied Olivia, “I will not be so cruel. The
world may have an inventory of my beauty. As, item, two lips, indifferent
red; item, two gray eyes with lids to them; one neck; one chin; and so
forth. Were you sent here to praise me?”</p>
<p>Viola replied, “I see what you are: you are too proud, but you are
fair. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such a love could but be
recompensed though you were crowned the queen of beauty; for Orsino loves
you with adoration and with tears, with groans that thunder love, and
sighs of fire.”</p>
<p>“Your lord,” said Olivia, “knows well my mind. I cannot
love him; yet I doubt not he is virtuous; I know him to be noble and of
high estate, of fresh and spotless youth. All voices proclaim him learned,
courteous, and valiant; yet I cannot love him. He might have taken his
answer long ago.”</p>
<p>“If I did love you as my master does,” said Viola, “I
would make me a willow cabin at your gates, and call upon your name. I
would write complaining sonnets on Olivia, and sing them in the dead of
the night. Your name should sound among the hills, and I would make Echo,
the babbling gossip of the air, cry out OLIVIA. Oh, you should not rest
between the elements of earth and air, but you should pity me.”</p>
<p>“You might do much,” said Olivia. “What is your
parentage?’”</p>
<p>Viola replied: “Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a
gentleman.”</p>
<p>Olivia now reluctantly dismissed Viola, saying: “Go to your master
and tell him I cannot love him. Let him send no more, unless perchance you
come again to tell me how he takes it.”</p>
<p>And Viola departed, bidding the lady farewell by the name of Fair Cruelty.
When she was gone Olivia repeated the words, ABOVE MY FORTUNES, YET MY
STATE IS WELL. I AM A GENTLEMAN. And she said aloud, “I will be
sworn he is; his tongue, his face, his limbs, action, and spirit plainly
show he is a gentleman.” And then she wished Cesario was the duke;
and, perceiving the fast hold he had taken on her affections, she blamed
herself for her sudden love; but the gentle blame which people lay upon
their own faults has no deep root, and presently the noble lady Olivia so
far forgot the inequality between, her fortunes and those of this seeming
page, as well as the maidenly reserve which is the chief ornament of a
lady’s character, that she resolved to court the love of young
Cesario, and sent a servant after him with a diamond ring, under the
pretense that he had left it with her as a present from Orsino. She hoped
by thus artfully making Cesario a present of the ring she should give him
some intimation of her design; and truly it did make Viola suspect; for,
knowing that Orsino had sent no ring by her, she began to recollect that
Olivia’s looks and manner were expressive of admiration, and she
presently guessed her master’s mistress had fallen in love with her.</p>
<p>“Alas!” said she, “the poor lady might as well love a
dream. Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as
fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino.”</p>
<p>Viola returned to Orsino’s palace, and related to her lord the ill
success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia that the duke
should trouble her no more. Yet still the duke persisted in hoping that
the gentle Cesario would in time be able to persuade her to show some
pity, and therefore he bade him he should go to her again the next day. In
the mean time, to pass away the tedious interval, he commanded a song
which he loved to be sung; and he said:</p>
<p>“My good Cesario, when I heard that song last night, methought it
did relieve my passion much. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain. The
spinsters and the knitters when they sit in the sun, and the young maids
that weave their thread with bone, chant this song. It is silly, yet I
love it, for it tells of the innocence of love in the old times.”</p>
<p>SONG<br/>
<br/>
Come away, come away, Death,<br/>
And in sad cypress let me be laid;<br/>
Fly away, fly away, breath,<br/>
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.<br/>
My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!<br/>
My part of death no one so true did share it.<br/>
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,<br/>
On my black coffin let there be strewn:<br/>
Not a friend, not a friend greet<br/>
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.<br/>
A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where<br/>
Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!<br/></p>
<p>Viola did not fail to mark the words of the old song, which in such true
simplicity described the pangs of unrequited love, and she bore testimony
in her countenance of feeling what the song expressed. Her sad looks were
observed by Orsino, who said to her:</p>
<p>“My life upon it, Cesario, though you are so young, your eye has
looked upon some face that it loves. Has it not, boy?”</p>
<p>“A little, with your leave,” replied Viola.</p>
<p>“And what kind of woman, and of what age is she?” said Orsino.</p>
<p>“Of your age and of your complexion, my lord,” said Viola;
which made the duke smile to hear this fair young boy loved a woman so
much older than himself and of a man’s dark complexion; but Viola
secretly meant Orsino, and not a woman like him.</p>
<p>When Viola made her second visit to Olivia she found no difficulty in
gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when their ladies delight to
converse with handsome young messengers; and the instant Viola arrived the
gates were thrown wide open, and the duke’s page was shown into
Olivia’s apartment with great respect. And when Viola told Olivia
that she was come once more to plead in her lord’s behalf, this lady
said:</p>
<p>“I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would
undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music from the
spheres.”</p>
<p>This was pretty plain speaking, but Olivia soon explained herself still
more plainly, and openly confessed her love; and when she saw displeasure
with perplexity expressed in Viola’s face, she said: “Oh, what
a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt and anger of his lip!
Cesario, by the roses of the spring, by maidhood, honor, and by truth, I
love you so that, in spite of your pride, I have neither wit nor reason to
conceal my passion.”</p>
<p>But in vain the lady wooed. Viola hastened from her presence, threatening
never more to come to plead Orsino’s love; and all the reply she
made to Olivia’s fond solicitation was, a declaration of a
resolution NEVER TO LOVE ANY WOMAN.</p>
<p>No sooner had Viola left the lady than a claim was made upon her valor. A
gentleman, a rejected suitor of Olivia, who had learned how that lady had
favored the duke’s messenger, challenged him to fight a duel. What
should poor Viola do, who, though she carried a man-like outside, had a
true woman’s heart and feared to look on her own sword?</p>
<p>When, she saw her formidable rival advancing toward her with his sword
drawn she began to think of confessing that she was a woman; but she was
relieved at once from her terror, and the shame of such a discovery, by a
stranger that was passing by, who made up to them, and as if he had been
long known to her and were her dearest friend said to her opponent:</p>
<p>“If this young gentleman has done offense, I will take the fault on
me; and if you offend him, I will for his sake defy you.”</p>
<p>Before Viola had time to thank him for his protection, or to inquire the
reason of his kind interference, her new friend met with an enemy where
his bravery was of no use to him; for the officers of justice coming up in
that instant, apprehended the stranger in the duke’s name, to answer
for an offense he had committed some years before; and he said to Viola:</p>
<p>“This comes with seeking you.” And then he asked her for a
purse, saying: “Now my necessity makes me ask for my purse, and it
grieves me much more for what I cannot do for you than for what befalls
myself. You stand amazed, but be of comfort.”</p>
<p>His words did indeed amaze Viola, and she protested she knew him not, nor
had ever received a purse from him; but for the kindness he had just shown
her she offered him a small sum of money, being nearly the whole she
possessed. And now the stranger spoke severe things, charging her with
ingratitude and unkindness. He said:</p>
<p>“This youth whom you see here I snatched from the jaws of death, and
for his sake alone I came to Illyria and have fallen into this danger.”</p>
<p>But the officers cared little for harkening to the complaints of their
prisoner, and they hurried him off, saying, “What is that to us?”
And as he was carried away, he called Viola by the name of Sebastian,
reproaching the supposed Sebastian for disowning his friend, as long as he
was within hearing. When Viola heard herself called Sebastian, though the
stranger was taken away too hastily for her to ask an explanation, she
conjectured that this seeming mystery might arise from her being mistaken
for her brother, and she began to cherish hopes that it was her brother
whose life this man said he had preserved. And so indeed it was. The
stranger, whose name was Antonio, was a sea-captain. He had taken
Sebastian up into his ship when, almost exhausted with fatigue, he was
floating on the mast to which he had fastened himself in the storm.
Antonio conceived such a friendship for Sebastian that he resolved to
accompany him whithersoever he went; and when the youth expressed a
curiosity to visit Orsino’s court, Antonio, rather than part from
him, came to Illyria, though he knew, if his person should be known there,
his life would be in danger, because in a sea-fight he had once
dangerously wounded the Duke Orsino’s nephew. This was the offense
for which he was now made a prisoner.</p>
<p>Antonio and Sebastian had landed together but a few hours before Antonio
met Viola. He had given his purse to Sebastian, desiring him to use it
freely if he saw anything he wished to purchase, telling him he would wait
at the inn while Sebastian went to view the town; but, Sebastian not
returning at the time appointed, Antonio had ventured out to look for him,
and, priest made Orsino believe that his page had robbed him of the
treasure he prized above his life. But thinking that it was past recall,
he was bidding farewell to his faithless mistress, and the YOUNG
DISSEMBLER, her husband, as he called Viola, warning her never to come in
his sight again, when (as it seemed to them) a miracle appeared! for
another Cesario entered, and addressed Olivia as his wife. This new
Cesario was Sebastian, the real husband of Olivia; and when their wonder
had a little ceased at seeing two persons with the same face, the same
voice, and the same habit, the brother and sister began to question each
other; for Viola could scarce be persuaded that her brother was living,
and Sebastian knew not how to account for the sister he supposed drowned
being found in the habit of a young man. But Viola presently acknowledged
that she was indeed Viola, and his sister, under that disguise.</p>
<p>When all the errors were cleared up which the extreme likeness between
this brother and sister had occasioned, they laughed at the Lady Olivia
for the pleasant mistake she had made in falling in love with a woman; and
Olivia showed no dislike to her exchange, when she found she had wedded
the brother instead of the sister.</p>
<p>The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of Olivia, and
with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to vanish away, and all his
thoughts were fixed on the event of his favorite, young Cesario, being
changed into a fair lady. He viewed Viola with great attention, and he
remembered how very handsome he had always thought Cesario was, and he
concluded she would look very beautiful in a woman’s attire; and
then he remembered how often she had said SHE LOVED HIM, which at the time
seemed only the dutiful expressions of a faithful page; but now he guessed
that something more was meant, for many of her pretty sayings, which were
like riddles to him, came now into his mind, and he no sooner remembered
all these things than he resolved to make Viola his wife; and he said to
her (he still could not help calling her CESARIO and BOY):</p>
<p>“Boy, you have said to me a thousand times that you should never
love a woman like to me, and for the faithful service you have done for me
so much beneath your soft and tender breeding, and since you have called
me master so long, you shall now be your master’s mistress, and
Orsino’s true duchess.”</p>
<p>Olivia, perceiving Orsino was making over that heart, which she had so
ungraciously rejected, to Viola, invited them to enter her house and
offered the assistance of the good priest who had married her to Sebastian
in the morning to perform the same ceremony in the remaining part of the
day for Orsino and Viola. Thus the twin brother and sister were both
wedded on the same day, the storm and shipwreck which had separated them
being the means of bringing to pass their high and mighty fortunes., Viola
was the wife of Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, and Sebastian the husband of
the rich and noble countess, the Lady Olivia.</p>
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