.

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.