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Updated: June 25, 2025
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.
He listened very attentively to the end and then deliberately offered Orsino a cigar and lit one himself, before he delivered his answer. "You are asking the same question which is put to me very often," he said at last. "I wish I could give you any encouragement. I cannot." Orsino's face fell, for the reply was categorical. He drew back a little in his chair, but said nothing.
Thereupon the Titan shook Orsino's hand in his mighty grip and went away. As a matter of fact he was going down to look over one of Montevarchi's biggest estates with a view to buying it in the coming cataclysm, but it would not have been like him to communicate the smallest of his intentions to Orsino, or to any one, not excepting his wife and his lawyer.
Since I am here, shall I sit for you? You might almost finish to-day." "Not so soon as that. It is Don Orsino's hour, but as he has not come, and since you are so kind by all means." "Ah! Is he punctual?" "He is probably running after those abominable dogs in pursuit of the feeble fox what they call the noble sport." Gouache's face expressed considerable disgust."
When old Saracinesca looked up from under his bushy brows and laughed and said that his grandson was in love, he thought no more of what he said than if he had remarked that Orsino's beard was growing or that Giovanni's was turning grey.
Corona and her husband were both struck by the change in Orsino's appearance, which indeed contrasted strongly with their own, refreshed and strengthened as they were by the keen mountain air, the endless out-of-door life, the manifold occupations of people deeply interested in the welfare of those around them and supremely conscious of their own power to produce good results in their own way.
He knew from San Giacinto that success was becoming uncommon, and he knew that all Orsino's industry and energy could not have sufficed to counterbalance his inexperience. Andrea Contini, too, had been recommended by Del Ferice, and was presumably Del Ferice's man.
As for genius, it is never selfish when it is at work." "Is that reflection your own?" "I think so," answered Orsino modestly. He was secretly pleased that a man of the artist's experience and reputation should be struck by his remark. "I do not think I agree with you," said Gouache. Orsino's expression changed a little. He was disappointed, but he said nothing.
Del Ferice's dull blue eyes saw most things that happened within the range of their vision, and neither the gesture nor the look that accompanied it escaped him. Orsino's position was extremely awkward. He had put Del Ferice to some inconvenience on the understanding that they were to go away together and did not wish to offend him by not keeping his engagement.
If the latter had known how completely he was in Del Ferice's power throughout the little scene, he would have then and there thrown over his financial schemes in favour of Maria Consuelo. But Del Ferice's quiet, friendly manner did not suggest despotism, and he did not suffer Orsino's embarrassment to last more than five seconds.
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