Act IV

"Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness wherein the pregnant enemy does much."

-2.2

Another month has passed, and passed quietly. Today, however, the good Lord seems determined to make good a month of nervous waiting by heaping trouble after trouble upon my head until I feel certain I must collapse beneath the weight.

First came that farce of a duel between myself and the Lady Olivia's suitor, Sir Andrew, I believe his name to be. I still do not know what provoked him to challenge me, though I suspect it is the unwanted attentions paid to me by the lady. I know only that I was abused by him and then rescued by a gentleman, called Antonio by those who later arrested him in my lord's name. Yet he claimed to know me, and called me by Sebastian's name! I cannot but rejoice at the thought that I am now mistaken for him. What chance has brought him to Illyria just as I need him most, I cannot say, but if my dear brother is indeed in Illyria, I cannot but rejoice.

I dare not hope for such a circumstance, though. For all that was said, Antonio may have come to Illyria on his own, having left my brother in some far distant land. I fear there is no good Sebastian could do me now, other than to offer me the solace of a brother's love and embrace. For there is more that has happened.

I returned to my lord's household, shaken by Antonio and his claims, and was told immediately to prepare to set out again, as my lord had determined to make a visit to the Lady Olivia in his own person. I could not speak to him and tell him what she had said to me, nor could I warn him of Antonio. And so he was surprised.

My lord is never at his best when he is surprised, and it is no different here. Antonio's capture seemed a fairly pleasant, if unexpected, event, though the gentleman's claims to know me he treated with scorn. I cannot but feel pity for the good Antonio's plight, and the sorrow and anger I read upon his face, but I do not know him! I have told my lord of Antonio's goodwill on my behalf; I can do no more for him. How can I help him when I cannot even help myself?

For Antonio was not the only surprise awaiting my lord, and the others were far from pleasant to his hearing.

I feel even more of a fool than I did before. I knew the Lady Olivia would treat me gently in my lord's sight, and I knew he would not react well. I did not expect him to react quite so violently, but when love spurned comes collapsing down 'round one's ears, when one sees the object of such great love in love with another, what else is there to do? I would have gone with him, would have subjected myself to any tortures for the ease of my lord's heart. The Lady Olivia could have expected nothing else from what I have said to her, made plain to her these past three months. I cannot love her, I will not love her, I would only that she love my lord.

But lo! She calls to me, and calls me husband!

I almost collapsed. I did sit down. What else could I do? I was not her husband, I had never been her husband. I almost believed she lied to keep me with her, though it hurt me to believe such of any of my sex. But that the holy father lied, no, that I could not compass. She had wed me, then—or perhaps, one who looked like me...

But my lord is leaving, has spurned and scorned me, and my heart is breaking. I must go with him, I must. I cannot stay here even to learn just who the Lady Olivia has wed beneath the guise of Cesario, whether it be Viola or Sebastian, or some other altogether. I must follow my lord even when he scorns me, for I, as man or woman, am but his spaniel to be abused as he would. It is all unraveling, and I must bear the burden of my choices and my love.

But soft, who comes here? Sir Andrew? Sir Toby? Abused by me?

...Sebastian?