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Updated: June 25, 2025
But if Del Ferice had seen the quick sign, he had probably interpreted it in a way compromising to Madame d'Aranjuez. This was serious, though it was assuredly not Orsino's fault if she compromised herself. She might have let him go without question, and since an explanation of some sort was necessary she might have waited until the next day to demand it of him.
The wooing, the winning and the marrying of the exquisite girl were to make up Orsino's life, and fifty or sixty years of idyllic happiness were to be the reward of their mutual devotion. Had she not spent twenty such years herself? Then why should not all the rest be possible? The dreams came and went and she was too sensible not to laugh at them.
He leaned forward and tried to draw her toward him, looking into her eyes. She yielded a little, and their faces came a little nearer to each other, and still a little nearer. All at once a deep blush rose in her cheeks, she turned her head away and drew back quickly. "Not for all the world!" she exclaimed, in a tone that was new to Orsino's ear.
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.
"It is of no use," he repeated, pressing her still more closely to him. "Let me go!" she cried, making a violent effort, as fruitless as the last. "No!" Then she was quite still, realising that she had no chance with him. "Is it manly to be brutal because you are strong?" she asked. "You hurt me." Orsino's arms relaxed, and he let her go.
Maria Consuelo hesitated and looked into Orsino's eyes for a moment. "Can I trust you?" she asked. "Implicitly." "He killed my husband." Orsino uttered a low exclamation of horror. In the deep silence which followed he heard Maria Consuelo draw her breath once or twice sharply through her closed teeth, as though she were in great pain.
"Alas!" said she, "the poor lady might as well love a dream. Disguise I see is wicked, for it has caused Olivia to breathe as fruitless sighs for me as I do for Orsino." Viola returned to Orsino's palace, and related to her lord the ill success of the negotiation, repeating the command of Olivia that the duke should trouble her no more.
There was a settled hardness in his face which was never again to disappear permanently. But he was horror-struck by Spicca's appearance. He had no idea that a man already so cadaverous could still change as the old man had changed. Spicca seemed little more than a grey shadow barely resting upon the white bed. He put the telegram into Orsino's hands.
Here and there tall detached houses rose out of the wilderness, mostly covered by scaffoldings and swarming with workmen, but hideous where so far finished as to be visible in all the isolation of their six-storied nakedness. A strong smell of lime, wet earth and damp masonry was blown into Orsino's nostrils by the scirocco wind.
Now, though Viola had the utmost deference for the duke's opinions, she could not help thinking this was not quite true, for she thought her heart had full as much love in it as Orsino's had; and she said: 'Ah, but I know, my lord. 'What do you know, Cesario? said Orsino. 'Too well I know, replied Viola, 'what love women may owe to men. They are as true of heart as we are.
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