Viola is a
tremendously likable figure. She has no serious faults, and we can easily
discount the peculiarity of her decision to dress as a man, since it sets the entire
plot in motion. Only Viola seems to be truly, passionately in love as
opposed to being self-indulgently lovesick. As she says to Orsino, describing
herself and her love for him:
She pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? (Shakespeare II.iv.111–114)
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? (Shakespeare II.iv.111–114)
Viola’s chief problem throughout the play is one of identity. Because of
her disguise, she must be both herself and Cesario.
Conceal me what I am, and be aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I’ll serve this Duke: (Shakespeare
I.ii.10)
This mounting identity crisis culminates in the final scene, when Viola
finds herself surrounded by people who each have a different idea of who she is
and are unaware of which she actually is. Were Twelfth Night not a comedy, this
pressure might cause Viola to break down. Sebastian’s appearance at this point,
however, effectively saves Viola by allowing her to be herself again.
Sebastian, who independent of his sister is not much of a character, takes over
the aspects of Viola’s disguise that she no longer wishes to maintain. Thus
liberated by her brother, Viola is free to shed the roles that she has
accumulated throughout the play, and she can return to being Viola, the woman
who has loved and won Orsino.