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Orsino, the Duke of Illyria, was deeply in love with a beautiful
Countess named Olivia. Yet was all his love in vain, for she
disdained his suit; and when her brother died, she sent back a
messenger from the Duke, bidding him tell his master that for seven
years she would not let the very air behold her face, but that, like
a nun, she would walk veiled; and all this for the sake of a dead
brother's love, which she would keep fresh and lasting in her sad
remembrance.
The Duke longed for someone to whom he could tell his sorrow, and
repeat over and over again the story of his love. And chance brought
him such a companion. For about this time a goodly ship was wrecked
on the Illyrian coast, and among those who reached land in safety
were the captain and a fair young maid, named Viola. But she was
little grateful for being rescued from the perils of the sea, since
she feared that her twin brother was drowned, Sebastian, as dear to
her as the heart in her bosom, and so like her that, but for the
difference in their manner of dress, one could hardly be told from
the other. The captain, for her comfort, told her that he had seen
her brother bind himself "to a strong mast that lived upon the sea,"
and that thus there was hope that he might be saved.
Viola now asked in whose country she was, and learning that the
young Duke Orsino ruled there, and was as noble in his nature as in
his name, she decided to disguise herself in male attire, and seek
for employment with him as a page.
In this she succeeded, and now from day to day she had to listen to
the story of Orsino's love. At first she sympathized very truly with
him, but soon her sympathy grew to love. At last it occurred to
Orsino that his hopeless love-suit might prosper better if he sent
this pretty lad to woo Olivia for him. Viola unwillingly went on
this errand, but when she came to the house, Malvolio, Olivia's
steward, a vain, officious man, sick, as his mistress told him, of
self-love, forbade the messenger admittance.
Viola, however (who was now called Cesario), refused to take any
denial, and vowed to have speech with the Countess. Olivia, hearing
how her instructions were defied and curious to see this daring
youth, said, "We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy."
When Viola was admitted to her presence and the servants had been
sent away, she listened patiently to the reproaches which this bold
messenger from the Duke poured upon her, and listening she fell in
love with the supposed Cesario; and when Cesario had gone, Olivia
longed to send some love-token after him. So, calling Malvolio, she
bade him follow the boy.
"He left this ring behind him," she said, taking one from her
finger. "Tell him I will none of it."
Malvolio did as he was bid, and then Viola, who of course knew
perfectly well that she had left no ring behind her, saw with a
woman's quickness that Olivia loved her. Then she went back to the
Duke, very sad at heart for her lover, and for Olivia, and for
herself.
It was but cold comfort she could give Orsino, who now sought to
ease the pangs of despised love by listening to sweet music, while
Cesario stood by his side.
"Ah," said the Duke to his page that night, "you too have been in
love."
"A little," answered Viola.
"What kind of woman is it?" he asked.
"Of your complexion," she answered.
"What years, i' faith?" was his next question.
To this came the pretty answer, "About your years, my lord."
"Too old, by Heaven!" cried the Duke. "Let still the woman take an
elder than herself."
And Viola very meekly said, "I think it well, my lord."
By and by Orsino begged Cesario once more to visit Olivia and to
plead his love-suit. But she, thinking to dissuade him, said--
"If some lady loved you as you love Olivia?"
"Ah! that cannot be," said the Duke.
"But I know," Viola went on, "what love woman may have for a man. My
father had a daughter loved a man, as it might be," she added
blushing, "perhaps, were I a woman, I should love your lordship."
"And what is her history?" he asked.
"A blank, my lord," Viola answered. "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. Was not this love
indeed?"
"But died thy sister of her love, my boy?" the Duke asked; and
Viola, who had all the time been telling her own love for him in
this pretty fashion, said--
"I am all the daughters my father has and all the brothers-- Sir,
shall I go to the lady?"
"To her in haste," said the Duke, at once forgetting all about the
story, "and give her this jewel."
So Viola went, and this time poor Olivia was unable to hide her
love, and openly confessed it with such passionate truth, that Viola
left her hastily, saying--
"Nevermore will I deplore my master's tears to you."
But in vowing this, Viola did not know the tender pity she would
feel for other's suffering. So when Olivia, in the violence of her
love, sent a messenger, praying Cesario to visit her once more,
Cesario had no heart to refuse the request.
But the favors which Olivia bestowed upon this mere page aroused the
jealousy of Sir Andrew Aguecheek, a foolish, rejected lover of hers,
who at that time was staying at her house with her merry old uncle
Sir Toby. This same Sir Toby dearly loved a practical joke, and
knowing Sir Andrew to be an arrant coward, he thought that if he
could bring off a duel between him and Cesario, there would be rare
sport indeed. So he induced Sir Andrew to send a challenge, which he
himself took to Cesario. The poor page, in great terror, said--
"I will return again to the house, I am no fighter."
"Back you shall not to the house," said Sir Toby, "unless you fight
me first."
And as he looked a very fierce old gentleman, Viola thought it best
to await Sir Andrew's coming; and when he at last made his
appearance, in a great fright, if the truth had been known, she
tremblingly drew her sword, and Sir Andrew in like fear followed her
example. Happily for them both, at this moment some officers of the
Court came on the scene, and stopped the intended duel. Viola gladly
made off with what speed she might, while Sir Toby called after
her--
"A very paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare!"
Now, while these things were happening, Sebastian had escaped all
the dangers of the deep, and had landed safely in Illyria, where he
determined to make his way to the Duke's Court. On his way thither
he passed Olivia's house just as Viola had left it in such a hurry,
and whom should he meet but Sir Andrew and Sir Toby. Sir Andrew,
mistaking Sebastian for the cowardly Cesario, took his courage in
both hands, and walking up to him struck him, saying, "There's for
you."
"Why, there's for you; and there, and there!" said Sebastian,
bitting back a great deal harder, and again and again, till Sir Toby
came to the rescue of his friend. Sebastian, however, tore himself
free from Sir Toby's clutches, and drawing his sword would have
fought them both, but that Olivia herself, having heard of the
quarrel, came running in, and with many reproaches sent Sir Toby and
his friend away. Then turning to Sebastian, whom she too thought to
be Cesario, she besought him with many a pretty speech to come into
the house with her.
Sebastian, half dazed and all delighted with her beauty and grace,
readily consented, and that very day, so great was Olivia's baste,
they were married before she had discovered that he was not Cesario,
or Sebastian was quite certain whether or not he was in a dream.
Meanwhile Orsino, hearing how ill Cesario sped with Olivia, visited
her himself, taking Cesario with him. Olivia met them both before
her door, and seeing, as she thought, her husband there, reproached
him for leaving her, while to the Duke she said that his suit was as
fat and wholesome to her as howling after music.
"Still so cruel?" said Orsino.
"Still so constant," she answered.
Then Orsino's anger growing to cruelty, he vowed that, to be
revenged on her, he would kill Cesario, whom he knew she loved.
"Come, boy," he said to the page.
And Viola, following him as he moved away, said, "I, to do you rest,
a thousand deaths would die."
A great fear took hold on Olivia, and she cried aloud, "Cesario,
husband, stay!"
"Her husband?" asked the Duke angrily.
"No, my lord, not I," said Viola.
"Call forth the holy father," cried Olivia.
And the priest who had married Sebastian and Olivia, coming in,
declared Cesario to be the bridegroom.
"O thou dissembling cub!" the Duke exclaimed. "Farewell, and take
her, but go where thou and I henceforth may never meet."
At this moment Sir Andrew came up with bleeding crown, complaining
that Cesario had broken his head, and Sir Toby's as well.
"I never hurt you," said Viola, very positively; "you drew your
sword on me, but I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not."
Yet, for all her protesting, no one there believed her; but all
their thoughts were on a sudden changed to wonder, when Sebastian
came in.
"I am sorry, madam," he said to his wife, "I have hurt your kinsman.
Pardon me, sweet, even for the vows we made each other so late ago."
"One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!" cried the Duke,
looking first at Viola, and then at Sebastian.
"An apple cleft in two," said one who knew Sebastian, "is not more
twin than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?"
"I never had a brother," said Sebastian. "I had a sister, whom the
blind waves and surges have devoured." "Were you a woman," he said
to Viola, "I should let my tears fall upon your cheek, and say,
'Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!'"
Then Viola, rejoicing to see her dear brother alive, confessed that
she was indeed his sister, Viola. As she spoke, Orsino felt the pity
that is akin to love.
"Boy," he said, "thou hast said to me a thousand times thou never
shouldst love woman like to me."
"And all those sayings will I overswear," Viola replied, "and all
those swearings keep true."
"Give me thy hand," Orsino cried in gladness. "Thou shalt be my
wife, and my fancy's queen."
Thus was the gentle Viola made happy, while Olivia found in
Sebastian a constant lover, and a good husband, and he in her a true
and loving wife.
Twelfth Night
A Classic English Shakespeare Story
by
Edith Nesbit |
