Viola Monologue in Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Act II, Scene ii
Brief synopsis of Twelfth Night up to this point.
Viola is a young woman who has been washed ashore after a shipwreck in this bittersweet comedy by William Shakespeare. She finds herself in a country called Illyria. She fears her twin brother has gone down with the ship. She dresses as a boy for protection as a young woman alone in a strange land would have a hard time of it. She gains employ in the court of Count Orsino. She tells everyone her name is Cesario. Orsino is pining for the Lady Olivia who has promised not to give her heart to any man. She has often rejected Orsino's overtures of love. He sends Cesario(Viola) to bring the lady Olivia messages of love from him. At first Olivia is cold but then she warms up to what she thinks is the very handsome young man. She falls hopelessly in love with Cesario(Viola) and sends her servant; Malvolio after Cesario(Viola) with a ring she says Caesario(Viola) left with her. When Malvolio offers her the ring Viola becomes horrified realizing that Olivia is in love with her.
Viola's Monologue
I left no ring with her. What means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her.
She made good view of me; indeed, so much
That, as methought, her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring? Why, he sent her none.
I am the man. If it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we,
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly;
And I poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love.
As I am woman, now alas the day!
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe?
O Time, thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me t' untie!
