His ship having gone down off the coast of Illyria during a storm the previous night, a sea captain orders the four sailors in the wooden lifeboat to pull hard on their oars one last time, then motions for the young woman seated beside him, Viola by name, to lean back as the boat glides in and lurches to a stop on the sand, the sailors quickly shipping oars, jumping out to haul the boat up from the shallow water and onto the beach.
“What country is this, friends?” Viola inquires, gazing at the lush green woods and tree-covered hills beyond the beach.
“This is Illyria , my lady,” the captain answers and helps her from the boat onto shore.
She broods for a moment, touching a hand to her wet, bedraggled hair. “What am I doing in Illyria when my brother is in heaven?” she asks sadly. She looks down at her sodden clothes, hanging limp and heavy on her delicate frame. “Perhaps through good fortune he was not drowned. What think you?” She turns to the captain, he and his men lugging several trunks from the boat and setting them down on the sand.
“Well, it was through good fortune that you yourself were saved,” he points out as he works.
Viola casts her eyes out to sea. “And so he may have been too,” she muses, gazing at wisps of white cloud that hover over the distant blue horizon.
“True, madam,” the captain agrees. “And to offer you some comfort in that possibility, I can tell you this: after our ship went down, when you and those few others who were saved clung to our boat in the driving wind, I saw your brother, brave in the face of danger, tying himself to a section of the broken mast that was floating on the water, courage and hope spurring him on in his desperation. For as long as he was in sight, I watched him there, battling the waves like the hero of the Greek myth who saved himself by riding on a dolphin’s back.”
Viola takes a coin from a pouch she has tied around her waist, and gives it to the sea captain. “For your encouraging words, here’s gold. My own escape makes me believe he could have been saved as well, and your story encourages me in that hope. Do you know this country Illyria ?”
“Yes, madam, I know it well, for I was born and raised not three hours’ travel from this very place.”
“Who governs here?”
“A noble duke, both in birth and reputation.”
“What is his name?”
“Orsino.”
“Orsino… I have heard my father speak of him. He was a bachelor then, I believe.”
“And still remains one, or was said to be until very recently. For I left here no more than a month ago, and then it was being rumored—you know how people gossip about their betters—that he sought the love of the fair Olivia.”
“Who is she?”
“A well regarded young woman, the daughter of a count who died some twelve months ago. He left her under the protection of his son, her brother, who died tragically shortly afterward. Because of the dear love she had for him, at least so the rumors have it, she has given up the sight and company of men.”
“Oh, that I could serve such a lady, and keep my plight hidden from the world until I am better prepared to reveal it.”
“That would be hard to do, madam, because she will not grant anyone’s desire to see her, not even the Duke’s.”
She considers for a moment. “You seem a decent man, Captain. And though evil can mask itself within a pleasant-seeming face, yet I feel I’m not deceived by your fair looks and well-meaning manner. I pray you—and I’ll pay you generously for doing so—help me conceal who I am, and assist me in fashioning a disguise that may suit my purpose. I’ll serve this Duke. You can present me as a well-versed young man who could be of valuable service to him in his present circumstance. Whatever may happen I will trust to time, but I ask that you reveal to no one this plan of mine.”
“You be his eunuch, and your mute I will be,” he vows. “If my tongue makes known the truth, let my eyes no longer see.”
“I thank you. Lead on…”
He gives his men the order to move out, points them to a clearing in the trees and, with Viola beside him, leads the way forward….
No comments:
Post a Comment