o see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired
he might be admitted; and throwing her veil over her face, she said she
would once more hear Orsino's embassy, not doubting but that he came
from the duke, by his importunity. Viola, entering, put on the most
manly air she could assume, and affecting the fine courtier language of
great men's pages, she said to the veiled lady: 'Most radiant,
exquisite, and matchless beauty, I pray you tell me if you are the lady
of the house; for I should be sorry to cast away my speech upon
another; for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken
great pains to learn it.' 'Whence come you, sir?' said Olivia. 'I can
say little more than I have studied,' replied Viola; 'and that question
is out of my part.' 'Are you a comedian?' said Olivia. 'No,' replied
Viola; 'and yet I am not that which I play'; meaning that she, being a
woman, feigned herself to be a man. And again she asked Olivia if she
were the lady of the house. Olivia said she was; and then Viola, having
more curiosity to see her rival's features, than haste to deliver her
master's message, said: 'Good madam, let me see your face.' With this
bold request Olivia was not averse to comply; for this haughty beauty,
whom the duke Orsino had loved so long in vain, at first sight
conceived a passion for the supposed page, the humble Cesario.

When Viola asked to see her face, Olivia said: 'Have you any commission
from your lord and master to negotiate with my face?' And then,
forgetting her determination to go veiled for seven long years, she
drew aside her veil, saying: 'But I will draw the curtain and show the
picture. Is it not well done?' Viola replied: 'It is beauty truly
mixed; the red and white upon your cheeks is by Nature's own cunning
hand laid on. You are the most cruel lady living, if you will lead
these graces to the grave, and leave the world no copy.' 'O, sir,'
replied Olivia, 'I will not be so cruel. The world may have an
inventory of my beauty. As, item, two Lips, indifferent red; item, two
grey eyes, with lids to them; one neck; one chin; and so forth. Were
you sent here to praise me?' Viola replied: 'I see what you are: you
are too proud, but you are fair. My lord and master loves you. O such a
love could but be recompensed, though you were crowned the queen of
beauty: for Orsino loves you with adoration and with tears, with groans
that thunder love, and sighs of fire.' 'Your lord,' said Olivia, 'know