Free Essays - The Web of Life in All the Kings Men :: All the Kings Men Essays

The Spider Web of Life  Throughout the novel, All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren, the characters are continually feeling the impacts of their activity later in the book.â Every one of their evil, crude activities were managed again later in the book and not in charming circumstance.â As Cass Mastern had made sense of: †¦the world resembles a huge bug catching network and in the event that you contact it, anyway gently, anytime the vibration waves to the remotest border and the sluggish bug feels the shiver and is tired no more yet springs out to excursion the gossamer curls about you who have contacted the web and afterward infuse the dark, desensitizing toxic substance under your hide.(188-89) This statement is a significant subject that is experienced all through the book.  Jack and the Judge, here is the place we primarily observe the web at work.â Jack, in line with Willie, went to uncover earth on the Judge.â Jack finds such a significant number of things out and as he uncovered it everything turns out badly, the insect got him.â When Jack uncovers his discoveries to Judge Irwin, his dad, he winds up executing himself before Jack gets an opportunity to converse with him father to son.â Although, generally, Jack's objective as expressed toward the start of the book was that he was to seek after truth and information, he expected to disregard this since it was a quest for information, however it had no positive thought process behind it, and, as we have experienced in past books consistently and all through this one, truth isn't generally a decent and honorable thing.â For this situation reality prompted what obliterated the Judge and Jack was seeking after reality.  The Cass Mastern story gives an intriguing corresponding to the continuous adventure of Jack Burden and Willie Stark.â Cass is tormented, as Jack may be, by reality and this drives them both to the verge just Cass falls over and can not recover.â Cass hit the bug catching network when he submitted infidelity with his old buddies spouse and after this the venom never appeared to stop flowing.â He was unable to quit tormenting himself in light of the fact that the wave in the web he caused had been tremendous to such an extent that it gobbled up his companion and pulverized him.â Cass couldn't right what had been done and that wrecked him.â Jack, despite the fact that his wave had likewise obliterated another, had the chance to make up for himself on the grounds that, despite the fact that his activity was awful, it genuinely was in the quest for reality, which, by definition is acceptable.

Essay --

Medieval times fabricating everywhere throughout the world, great number of them has caught the creative mind of guests all through time like the Alhambra. Its normal every day guests comes to, 6,000 visitors visit the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. Much award has happened as for the Palace of the Lions, one of two manors that made it all through the first six or seven. What makes it such a rich dig for study is the abundant improved route in enrichment and styling, and moreover its unusual floor course of action and afterward the drinking fountain. While many contrasting perspectives on the Palace of the Lions have been deliberately noted and very much upheld, all agree that the Alhambra is a great mosaic wherein impacts from Europe, the Almohads, the Fatimids, and the Eastern Islamic world can be seen. Rather than giving simply point by point, bit by bit portrayal on of the floor plan and format of the royal residences (which have large amounts of the writing), I will concentrate on a diagram of the Alhambra, a couple of the special highlights of the Palace of the Lions that reflects Arabs societies, and afterward look at how essayists and schol...

Foreign Language and Area Studies Fellowship COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog

Foreign Language and Area Studies Fellowship COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - SIPA Admissions Blog U.S. citizens, nationals, or permanent residents who are proficient in certain languages may be interested in submitting an application for a Foreign Language and Area Studies Fellowship (FLAS).   SIPA will consider newly admitted applicants for funding through this program.   Graduate school student recipients receive $18,000 toward tuition and a $15,000 stipend. The timing of our admission decisions and the FLAS deadline makes it a little tricky.   Basically those interested in the FLAS must submit an application   for FLAS before the SIPA Admissions Committee has made admissions decisions.   The FLAS application deadline is March 4th and full details regarding the application process and eligible languages can be found on the FLAS application web site. Unfortunately, it is not likely that we will start publishing admissions decisions prior to March 4th.   We will do our best to start publishing decisions early in March, but we do not set a specific date.   When decisions get sent is dependent upon a variety of factors and this is a topic I will address in a future blog entry. What this means is that if you are interested in being considered for a FLAS award, you should submit your FLAS application prior to knowing your SIPA admission decision.   Due to the extremely generous nature of the fellowship, I think it would well be worth the time if you qualify and are interested. Here is a brief description of the FLAS Award taken directly from the FLAS web site: The Foreign Language and Area Studies (FLAS) Fellowship Program is predicated on the belief that “the security, stability, and economic vitality of the United States in a complex global era depend upon American experts and citizens knowledgeable about world regions, foreign languages, and international affairs, as well as upon a strong research base in these areas.” FLAS fellowships strengthen the nation’s ability to respond to security threats and to compete effectively in the modern world by promoting foreign language competence and area and international knowledge and by ensuring the continuance of area expertise in a variety of fields, including academe. If you have questions or require further information regarding FLAS, please email Sandra Peters at scp3@columbia.edu

The legacy of the renaissance - 1566 Words

The legacy of the renaissance can be described and defined in many ways and through many great people. For example, one of the main figures of the renaissance was Leonardo Da Vinci born in Italy during the year1452; he was during his time and is still today considered a true renaissance man. Da Vinci dabbled in almost every aspect of the arts and science. He is most famous however for his painting (Mona Lisa) finished in 1506, but he also worked on designs for weapons and sculpted as well as the study of human anatomy. Leonardo Da Vinci died on May 2nd 1519. And it is said that King Francis was at his side when he died, cradling Leonardos head in his arms. Another great figure of the renaissance was the Architect (Andrea Palladio) born†¦show more content†¦From this concern came The Council of Trent The council of Trent was formed in 1545 and lasted for almost 20 years, until 1563. During this time the council worked on the problems in three separate sessions. It was a major undertaking and the outcome was a much needed reform of the Catholic Church but it was still on their terms. Although many issues were addressed and resolved by the council it was too little too late. The Protestant Church had grown too strong and beyond the reach of the Catholic Church. Although the Catholic Church would remain a major religion, it would in a few short centuries no longer be the leading religion in the western world.The Baroque Age was during the years 1600-1750 A.D. During this time period many great advances in the arts were made but none greater the ones made in music. The word Baroque comes from two words. The first being the French word baroque meaning (irregularly shaped pearl) the second being the Portuguese word barroco also meaning (irregularly shaped pearl) the Baroque Age was after the Renaissance and in a way was a backlash to the simplicity and ideals of the renaissance period. The Baroque age saw a trend in extravagance, bold ornamentation and flambo yance. There were three major movements during the baroque age. The first being Florid Style. This style was brought to life by the influence of seventeenth-century popes and is easilyShow MoreRelatedThe Renaissance : The Contribution And Legacy Of The Renaissance1120 Words   |  5 PagesThe Black Death swept through Europe and killed 1/3 of the population. Life seemed bleak for millions of survivors. Music and art took a back seat, but that all changed with the Renaissance. The Renaissance was a period in European history, from the 14th to the 16th century, regarded as the cultural bridge between the Middle Ages and modern history. It was a time period of rebirth that offered people a chance to live again. Music and art once more became center stage. Artist became architects. MusiciansRead MoreIf We Must Die By Claude Mckay1237 Words   |  5 PagesHarlem Renaissance. This was a cultural movement for African American musicians, artists, scholars, and poets. The cultural movement McKay was apart of would suggest that he knows exactly how it feels to be at battle, and to feel like you can’t win. The Harlem Renaissance was a period of rebirth for the artists like McKay and their voices were finally heard as significant contributors to the intellectual community. The movement finally gave them a chance to be remembered and to carve out a legacy forRead MoreIsabella Stewart Gardner Museum s Art Collection1082 Words   |  5 Pagespalazzo, inspired from the city that captured Gardner’s heart and ultimate vision of her legacy (Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum). Assisted by Renaissance-revival architect, Willard T. Sears, the palazzo-like structure was realized in its full glory, albeit Renaissance ornamentation had no logical place in early 20th-century Boston, Massachusetts. However, Isabella Stewart Gardner’s fascination with the Renaissance was not solely because the works and buildings were visually pleasing. A palazzo, forRead MoreLife o f Petrarch by Ernest Hatch Wilkins1328 Words   |  6 Pagesrationalism relied upon the belief in the dignity of human beings. This philosophy quickly grew and expanded all across Europe as an outburst of human creativity and paved the way to contemporary learning. The birth of humanism was the beginning of the Renaissance period. The creating of new inventive literature, expanding the once bounded writing curriculum. New values were stressed in writing in the importance of poetry and books. Especially expressed by the Father of Humanism Francesco Petrarch. He wasRead More Magnificent Minds Of The Renaissance in Europe Essay856 Words   |  4 Pages The high renaissance of the 1500s was a time of scientific, philosophic, and artistic awe and inspiration. Many new discoveries were being made in the field of science, and philosophers expressed their assumptions on the world and universe around them. In addition, many individuals were gifted with artistic dexterity and skill. The amazing achievements of Michelangelo, Raphael, and Leonardo da Vinci are considered significant to the Renaissance period. In this paper, the endeavors and achievementsRead MoreEssay on The Harlem Renaissance1187 Words   |  5 PagesThe Harlem Renaissance The Harlem Renaissance refers to a prolific period of unique works of African-American expression from about the end of World War I to the beginning of the Great Depression. Although it is most commonly associated with the literary works produced during those years, the Harlem Renaissance was much more than a literary movement; similarly, it was not simply a reaction against and criticism of racism. The Harlem Renaissance inspired, cultivated, and, most importantly, legitimatedRead MoreThe Reign Of The Carolingian Dynasty1429 Words   |  6 Pagescultural impact on medieval society that would resonate for years to come. Until the empire fell in 888, the Carolingian House of the Franks initially brought stability and progress to most of Europe, as well as pioneering a cultural and intellectual renaissance that influenced the remainder of the Middle Ages. Although there were various Carolingian rulers who aided these advances, it is fair to say that Carolingian developments reached th eir peak during the reign of Charlemagne, a leader and reformerRead MoreAlain Locke s The New Negro1400 Words   |  6 PagesThough times have changed, Alain Locke tries to convey that meaning into many of his writings. Alain Locke has been an activist for the many years of the Harlem Renaissance. He spoke forward about how the ancestors of African American referred as the â€Å"Old Negros† and the newer generation referred to as the â€Å"New Negros† took different outlooks on life. American Negros goal in life at this point in time was to change their mentality. But how? Locke had introduced many readers to the vibrant wondrousRead MoreBlack And Blues - Langston Hughes1623 Words   |  7 PagesKelsee Robinson Mrs. Fiene English 12 14 March 2017 Black and Blues – Langston Hughes The Harlem Renaissance was a time in history when the African American culture had one of its most influential movements by using creativity and the arts (Hutchinson 1). This movement took place between 1918 and 1937 and was shaped by both African American men and women through writing, theatre, visual arts, and music. The purpose of this movement was to change the white stereotypes that were associated withRead MoreRenaissance Essay920 Words   |  4 PagesThe Renaissance was an era of change in human thought. It was characterized by a new philosophy, which included the rise of humanism, individualism, and secularism. Writers and artists began to focus on the individual man and his potential. The Renaissance movement began in the Italian city-states, especially Florence, and spread northward toward the rest of Europe. The Renaissance was the rebirth of new ideas in all aspects of life such as: science, technology, classical art, and education.

Born Into Brothels Rhetorical Analysis - 1019 Words

Rhetorical Analysis of Born into Brothels In Calcuttas red light district, several children are trying to get by in brothels. Their mothers are prostitutes and their fathers are gone, unreliable or unknown. Zana Briski journeys to Calcutta to photograph the lives of the prostitutes, and she ends up teaching their children about cameras and photography. Briski finds that the kids have true potential, not only in their photography but in their lives. She tries as hard as she can to find better futures for them. Born into Brothels tells this story. The film uses contrast, appeals to pathos and use of visuals to convey the tragedy of the childrens every day, and also the hope for their future to those who have no idea about their situation.†¦show more content†¦Finally, Born into Brothels uses visuals show how these children have potential. Several times the film shows the actual photographs taken by the kids. This allows the audience to see Calcutta through their eyes. We are able to see things that are worth photograp hing from people who grew up on those streets. As an outsider, everything there would seem unusual, so its almost surprising which scenes they capture. The simplicity of the way they see a place that must be so complicated for them. It is this place they want to leave, they have to leave — but at the same time, it is their only home. Also, its almost starling how good the pictures are. They are very true and raw, and each one tells its own story. The film shows these photographs to prove that these kids have real potential. They are smart and creative and caring. This film shows that anyone from anywhere can be somebody. The use of this strategy is effective because of our expectations that the childrens photographs will be mediocre. It is sad that we automatically assume that they are not talented, and the film effectively disproves that theory. Born into Brothels uses contrast, pathos and photographs to illustrate a struggle to find children a better future and the fact that they have a lot of potential even though they come from such a violent beginning. The use of these rhetorical strategies is, for the most part,Show MoreRelatedThe Semplica Girl Diaries Analysis1621 Words   |  7 Pagessociety. While George’s initial entry into his diary dated 3rd explains his reasons to keep a diary, to give information about posterity of his different world, he talks of issues that are present in the current American society. The writer asks rhetorical questions. He wonders if the future generations will be familiar with sounds of airplanes that fly over homes at night. To some point, it seems like the diary is providing a political commentary on the current society rather than the author’s alternativeRead MoreEssay Writing9260 Words   |  38 PagesThe Essay Writing Process In Greek legend, the goddess of wisdom, Athena, was born fully armed from the head of Zeus. Unfortunately, this is the only recorded instance of instant wisdom. Especially in the medium of the written word, the communication of complex ideas is a process—a process that requires thinking and rethinking, working and reworking. The student who claims to have dashed off an A essay at one in the morning the night before it was due is either a liar or a genius. ThisRead MorePeculiarities of Euphemisms in English and Difficulties in Their Translation19488 Words   |  78 Pages The main methods of research are descriptive, comparative, the method of analysis and synthesis. But we consider that the study of euphemisms is impossible without using contextual-logical analysis. CHAPTER I. THE NOTION OF EUPHEMISMS IN ENGLISH I.1. Definition of Euphemisms Euphemisms come from a Greek word meaning to speak favourably, and Greek provides whatRead MoreOne Significant Change That Has Occurred in the World Between 1900 and 2005. Explain the Impact This Change Has Made on Our Lives and Why It Is an Important Change.163893 Words   |  656 Pageslamentable. Taken together, the key themes and processes that have been selected as the focus for each of the eight essays provide a way to conceptualize the twentieth century as a coherent unit for teaching, as well as for written narrative and analysis. Though they do not exhaust the crucial strands of historical development that tie the century together—one could add, for example, nationalism and decolonization—they cover in depth the defining phenomena of that epoch, which, as the essays demonstrate

A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy Free Essays

string(86) " listen to Old Nan tell her tales of the children of the forest and Florian the Fool\." Jon The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. â€Å"Easy, sweet lady,† he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispered through the stable, a cold dead breath on his face, but Jon paid it no mind. We will write a custom essay sample on A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy or any similar topic only for you Order Now He strapped his roll to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. â€Å"Ghost,† he called softly, â€Å"to me.† And the wolf was there, eyes like embers. â€Å"Jon, please. You must not do this.† He mounted, the reins in his hand, and wheeled the horse around to face the night. Samwell Tarly stood in the stable door, a full moon peering over his shoulder. He threw a giant’s shadow, immense and black. â€Å"Get out of my way, Sam.† â€Å"Jon, you can’t,† Sam said. â€Å"I won’t let you.† â€Å"I would sooner not hurt you,† Jon told him. â€Å"Move aside, Sam, or I’ll ride you down.† â€Å"You won’t. You have to listen to me. Please . . . â€Å" Jon put his spurs to horseflesh, and the mare bolted for the door. For an instant Sam stood his ground, his face as round and pale as the moon behind him, his mouth a widening O of surprise. At the last moment, when they were almost on him, he jumped aside as Jon had known he would, stumbled, and fell. The mare leapt over him, out into the night. Jon raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head. Castle Black was silent and still as he rode out, with Ghost racing at his side. Men watched from the Wall behind him, he knew, but their eyes were turned north, not south. No one would see him go, no one but Sam Tarly, struggling back to his feet in the dust of the old stables. He hoped Sam hadn’t hurt himself, falling like that. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just like him to break a wrist or twist his ankle getting out of the way. â€Å"I warned him,† Jon said aloud. â€Å"It was nothing to do with him, anyway.† He flexed his burned hand as he rode, opening and closing the scarred fingers. They still pained him, but it felt good to have the wrappings off. Moonlight silvered the hills as he followed the twisting ribbon of the kingsroad. He needed to get as far from the Wall as he could before they realized he was gone. On the morrow he would leave the road and strike out overland through field and bush and stream to throw off pursuit, but for the moment speed was more important than deception. It was not as though they would not guess where he was going. The Old Bear was accustomed to rise at first light, so Jon had until dawn to put as many leagues as he could between him and the Wall . . . if Sam Tarly did not betray him. The fat boy was dutiful and easily frightened, but he loved Jon like a brother. If questioned, Sam would doubtless tell them the truth, but Jon could not imagine him braving the guards in front of the King’s Tower to wake Mormont from sleep. When Jon did not appear to fetch the Old Bear’s breakfast from the kitchen, they’d look in his cell and find Longclaw on the bed. It had been hard to abandon it, but Jon was not so lost to honor as to take it with him. Even Jorah Mormont had not done that, when he fled in disgrace. Doubtless Lord Mormont would find someone more worthy of the blade. Jon felt bad when he thought of the old man. He knew his desertion would be salt in the still-raw wound of his son’s disgrace. That seemed a poor way to repay him for his trust, but it couldn’t be helped. No matter what he did, Jon felt as though he were betraying someone. Even now, he did not know if he was doing the honorable thing. The southron had it easier. They had their septons to talk to, someone to tell them the gods’ will and help sort out right from wrong. But the Starks worshiped the old gods, the nameless gods, and if the heart trees heard, they did not speak. When the last lights of Castle Black vanished behind him, Jon slowed his mare to a walk. He had a long journey ahead and only the one horse to see him through. There were holdfasts and farming villages along the road south where he might be able to trade the mare for a fresh mount when he needed one, but not if she were injured or blown. He would need to find new clothes soon; most like, he’d need to steal them. He was clad in black from head to heel; high leather riding boots, roughspun breeches and tunic, sleeveless leather jerkin, and heavy wool cloak. His longsword and dagger were sheathed in black moleskin, and the hauberk and coif in his saddlebag were black ringmail. Any bit of it could mean his death if he were taken. A stranger wearing black was viewed with cold suspicion in every village and holdfast north of the Neck, and men would soon be watching for him. Once Maester Aemon’s ravens took flight, Jon knew he would find no safe haven. Not even at Winterfell. Bran might want to let him in, but Maester Luwin had better sense. He would bar the gates and send Jon away, as he should. Better not to call there at all. Yet he saw the castle clear in his mind’s eye, as if he had left it only yesterday; the towering granite walls, the Great Hall with its smells of smoke and dog and roasting meat, his father’s solar, the turret room where he had slept. Part of him wanted nothing so much as to hear Bran laugh again, to sup on one of Gage’s beef-and-bacon pies, to listen to Old Nan tell her tales of the children of the forest and Florian the Fool. You read "A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy" in category "Essay examples" But he had not left the Wall for that; he had left because he was after all his father’s son, and Robb’s brother. The gift of a sword, even a sword as fine as Longclaw, did not make him a Mormont. Nor was he Aemon Targaryen. Three times the old man had chosen, and three times he had chosen honor, but that was him. Even now, Jon could not decide whether the maester had stayed because he was weak and craven, or because he was strong and true. Yet he understood what the old man had meant, about the pain of choosing; he understood that all too well. Tyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it, but Jon was done with denials. He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life—however long that might be—he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. Wherever he might go throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he would need to live a lie, lest every man’s hand be raised against him. But it made no matter, so long as he lived long enough to take his place by his brother’s side and help avenge his father. He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair. Jon would have to come to him in secret, disguised. He tried to imagine the look on Robb’s face when he revealed himself. His brother would shake his head and smile, and he’d say . . . he’d say . . . He could not see the smile. Hard as he tried, he could not see it. He found himself thinking of the deserter his father had beheaded the day they’d found the direwolves. â€Å"You said the words,† Lord Eddard had told him. â€Å"You took a vow, before your brothers, before the old gods and the new.† Desmond and Fat Tom had dragged the man to the stump. Bran’s eyes had been wide as saucers, and Jon had to remind him to keep his pony in hand. He remembered the look on Father’s face when Theon Greyjoy brought forth Ice, the spray of blood on the snow, the way Theon had kicked the head when it came rolling at his feet. He wondered what Lord Eddard might have done if the deserter had been his brother Benjen instead of that ragged stranger. Would it have been any different? It must, surely, surely . . . and Robb would welcome him, for a certainty. He had to, or else . . . It did not bear thinking about. Pain throbbed, deep in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Jon put his heels into his horse and broke into a gallop, racing down the kingsroad, as if to outrun his doubts. Jon was not afraid of death, but he did not want to die like that, trussed and bound and beheaded like a common brigand. If he must perish, let it be with a sword in his hand, fighting his father’s killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one . . . but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three. Ghost kept pace with them for almost half a mile, red tongue lolling from his mouth. Man and horse alike lowered their heads as he asked the mare for more speed. The wolf slowed, stopped, watching, his eyes glowing red in the moonlight. He vanished behind, but Jon knew he would follow, at his own pace. Scattered lights flickered through the trees ahead of him, on both sides of the road: Mole’s Town. A dog barked as he rode through, and he heard a mule’s raucous haw from the stable, but otherwise the village was still. Here and there the glow of hearth fires shone through shuttered windows, leaking between wooden slats, but only a few. Mole’s Town was bigger than it seemed, but three quarters of it was under the ground, in deep warm cellars connected by a maze of tunnels. Even the whorehouse was down there, nothing on the surface but a wooden shack no bigger than a privy, with a red lantern hung over the door. On the Wall, he’d heard men call the whores â€Å"buried treasures.† He wondered whether any of his brothers in black were down there tonight, mining. That was oathbreaking too, yet no one seemed to care. Not until he was well beyond the village did Jon slow again. By then both he and the mare were damp with sweat. He dismounted, shivering, his burned hand aching. A bank of melting snow lay under the trees, bright in the moonlight, water trickling off to form small shallow pools. Jon squatted and brought his hands together, cupping the runoff between his fingers. The snowmelt was icy cold. He drank, and splashed some on his face, until his cheeks tingled. His fingers were throbbing worse than they had in days, and his head was pounding too. I am doing the right thing, he told himself, so why do I feel so bad? The horse was well lathered, so Jon took the lead and walked her for a while. The road was scarcely wide enough for two riders to pass abreast, its surface cut by tiny streams and littered with stone. That run had been truly stupid, an invitation to a broken neck. Jon wondered what had gotten into him. Was he in such a great rush to die? Off in the trees, the distant scream of some frightened animal made him look up. His mare whinnied nervously. Had his wolf found some prey? He cupped his hands around his mouth. â€Å"Ghost!† he shouted. â€Å"Ghost, to me.† The only answer was a rush of wings behind him as an owl took flight. Frowning, Jon continued on his way. He led the mare for half an hour, until she was dry. Ghost did not appear. Jon wanted to mount up and ride again, but he was concerned about his missing wolf. â€Å"Ghost,† he called again. â€Å"Where are you? To me! Ghost!† Nothing in these woods could trouble a direwolf, even a half-grown direwolf, unless . . . no, Ghost was too smart to attack a bear, and if there was a wolf pack anywhere close Jon would have surely heard them howling. He should eat, he decided. Food would settle his stomach and give Ghost the chance to catch up. There was no danger yet; Castle Black still slept. In his saddlebag, he found a biscuit, a piece of cheese, and a small withered brown apple. He’d brought salt beef as well, and a rasher of bacon he’d filched from the kitchens, but he would save the meat for the morrow. After it was gone he’d need to hunt, and that would slow him. Jon sat under the trees and ate his biscuit and cheese while his mare grazed along the kingsroad. He kept the apple for last. It had gone a little soft, but the flesh was still tart and juicy. He was down to the core when he heard the sounds: horses, and from the north. Quickly Jon leapt up and strode to his mare. Could he outrun them? No, they were too close, they’d hear him for a certainty, and if they were from Castle Black . . . He led the mare off the road, behind a thick stand of grey-green sentinels. â€Å"Ouiet now,† he said in a hushed voice, crouching down to peer through the branches. If the gods were kind, the riders would pass by. Likely as not, they were only smallfolk from Mole’s Town, farmers on their way to their fields, although what they were doing out in the middle of the night . . . He listened to the sound of hooves growing steadily louder as they trotted briskly down the kingsroad. From the sound, there were five or six of them at the least. Their voices drifted through the trees. † . . . certain he came this way?† â€Å"We can’t be certain.† â€Å"He could have ridden east, for all you know. Or left the road to cut through the woods. That’s what I’d do.† â€Å"In the dark? Stupid. If you didn’t fall off your horse and break your neck, you’d get lost and wind up back at the Wall when the sun came up.† â€Å"I would not.† Grenn sounded peeved. â€Å"I’d just ride south, you can tell south by the stars.† â€Å"What if the sky was cloudy?† Pyp asked. â€Å"Then I wouldn’t go.† Another voice broke in. â€Å"You know where I’d be if it was me? I’d be in Mole’s Town, digging for buried treasure.† Toad’s shrill laughter boomed through the trees. Jon’s mare snorted. â€Å"Keep quiet, all of you,† Haider said. â€Å"I thought I heard something.† â€Å"Where? I didn’t hear anything.† The horses stopped. â€Å"You can’t hear yourself fart.† â€Å"I can too,† Grenn insisted. â€Å"Quiet!† They all fell silent, listening. Jon found himself holding his breath. Sam, he thought. He hadn’t gone to the Old Bear, but he hadn’t gone to bed either, he’d woken the other boys. Damn them all. Come dawn, if they were not in their beds, they’d be named deserters too. What did they think they were doing? The hushed silence seemed to stretch on and on. From where Jon crouched, he could see the legs of their horses through the branches. Finally Pyp spoke up. â€Å"What did you hear?† â€Å"I don’t know,† Haider admitted. â€Å"A sound, I thought it might have been a horse but . . . â€Å" â€Å"There’s nothing here.† Out of the corner of his eye, Jon glimpsed a pale shape moving through the trees. Leaves rustled, and Ghost came bounding out of the shadows, so suddenly that Jon’s mare started and gave a whinny. â€Å"There!† Halder shouted. â€Å"I heard it too!† â€Å"Traitor,† Jon told the direwolf as he swung up into the saddle. He turned the mare’s head to slide off through the trees, but they were on him before he had gone ten feet. â€Å"Jon!† Pyp shouted after him. â€Å"Pull up,† Grenn said. â€Å"You can’t outrun us all.† Jon wheeled around to face them, drawing his sword. â€Å"Get back. I don’t wish to hurt you, but I will if I have to.† â€Å"One against seven?† Halder gave a signal. The boys spread out, surrounding him. â€Å"What do you want with me?† Jon demanded. â€Å"We want to take you back where you belong,† Pyp said. â€Å"I belong with my brother.† â€Å"We’re your brothers now,† Grenn said. â€Å"They’ll cut off your head if they catch you, you know,† Toad put in with a nervous laugh. â€Å"This is so stupid, it’s like something the Aurochs would do.† â€Å"I would not,† Grenn said. â€Å"I’m no oathbreaker. I said the words and I meant them.† â€Å"So did I,† Jon told them. â€Å"Don’t you understand? They murdered my father. It’s war, my brother Robb is fighting in the riverlands—† â€Å"We know,† said Pyp solemnly. â€Å"Sam told us everything.† â€Å"We’re sorry about your father,† Grenn said, â€Å"but it doesn’t matter. Once you say the words, you can’t leave, no matter what.† â€Å"I have to,† Jon said fervently. â€Å"You said the words,† Pyp reminded him. â€Å"Now my watch begins, you said it. It shall not end until my death.† â€Å"I shall live and die at my post,† Grenn added, nodding. â€Å"You don’t have to tell me the words, I know them as well as you do.† He was angry now. Why couldn’t they let him go in peace? They were only making it harder. â€Å"I am the sword in the darkness,† Halder intoned. â€Å"The watcher on the walls,† piped Toad. Jon cursed them all to their faces. They took no notice. Pyp spurred his horse closer, reciting, â€Å"I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.† â€Å"Stay back,† Jon warned him, brandishing his sword. â€Å"I mean it, Pyp.† They weren’t even wearing armor, he could cut them to pieces if he had to. Matthar had circled behind him. He joined the chorus. â€Å"I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch.† Jon kicked his mare, spinning her in a circle. The boys were all around him now, closing from every side. â€Å"For this night . . . † Halder trotted in from the left. † . . . and all the nights to come,† finished Pyp. He reached over for Jon’s reins. â€Å"So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me.† Jon lifted his sword . . . and lowered it, helpless. â€Å"Damn you,† he said. â€Å"Damn you all.† â€Å"Do we have to bind your hands, or will you give us your word you’ll ride back peaceful?† asked Halder. â€Å"I won’t run, if that’s what you mean.† Ghost moved out from under the trees and Jon glared at him. â€Å"Small help you were,† he said. The deep red eyes looked at him knowingly. â€Å"We had best hurry,† Pyp said. â€Å"If we’re not back before first light, the Old Bear will have all our heads.† Of the ride back, Jon Snow remembered little. It seemed shorter than the journey south, perhaps because his mind was elsewhere. Pyp set the pace, galloping, walking, trotting, and then breaking into another gallop. Mole’s Town came and went, the red lantern over the brothel long extinguished. They made good time. Dawn was still an hour off when Jon glimpsed the towers of Castle Black ahead of them, dark against the pale immensity of the Wall. It did not seem like home this time. They could take him back, Jon told himself, but they could not make him stay. The war would not end on the morrow, or the day after, and his friends could not watch him day and night. He would bide his time, make them think he was content to remain here . . . and then, when they had grown lax, he would be off again. Next time he would avoid the kingsroad. He could follow the Wall east, perhaps all the way to the sea, a longer route but a safer one. Or even west, to the mountains, and then south over the high passes. That was the wildling’s way, hard and perilous, but at least no one wouid follow him. He wouldn’t stray within a hundred leagues of Winterfell or the kingsroad. Samwell Tarly awaited them in the old stables, slumped on the ground against a bale of hay, too anxious to sleep. He rose and brushed himself off. â€Å"I . . . I’m glad they found you, Jon.† â€Å"I’m not,† Jon said, dismounting. Pyp hopped off his horse and looked at the lightening sky with disgust. â€Å"Give us a hand bedding down the horses, Sam,† the small boy said. â€Å"We have a long day before us, and no sleep to face it on, thanks to Lord Snow.† When day broke, Jon walked to the kitchens as he did every dawn. Three-Finger Hobb said nothing as he gave him the Old Bear’s breakfast. Today it was three brown eggs boiled hard, with fried bread and ham steak and a bowl of wrinkled plums. Jon carried the food back to the King’s Tower. He found Mormont at the window seat, writing. His raven was walking back and forth across his shoulders, muttering, â€Å"Corn, corn, corn.† The bird shrieked when Jon entered. â€Å"Put the food on the table,† the Old Bear said, glancing up. â€Å"I’ll have some beer.† Jon opened a shuttered window, took the flagon of beer off the outside ledge, and filled a horn. Hobb had given him a lemon, still cold from the Wall. Jon crushed it in his fist. The juice trickled through his fingers. Mormont drank lemon in his beer every day, and claimed that was why he still had his own teeth. â€Å"Doubtless you loved your father,† Mormont said when Jon brought him his horn. â€Å"The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember when I told you that?† â€Å"I remember,† Jon said sullenly. He did not care to talk of his father’s death, not even to Mormont. â€Å"See that you never forget it. The hard truths are the ones to hold tight. Fetch me my plate. Is it ham again? So be it. You look weary. Was your moonlight ride so tiring?† Jon’s throat was dry. â€Å"You know?† â€Å"Know,† the raven echoed from Mormont’s shoulder. â€Å"Know.† The Old Bear snorted. â€Å"Do you think they chose me Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch because I’m dumb as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me you’d go. I told him you’d be back. I know my men . . . and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad . . . and honor brought you back.† â€Å"My friends brought me back,† Jon said. â€Å"Did I say it was your honor?† Mormont inspected his plate. â€Å"They killed my father. Did you expect me to do nothing?† â€Å"If truth be told, we expected you to do just as you did.† Mormont tried a plum, spit out the pit. â€Å"I ordered a watch kept over you., You were seen leaving. If your brothers had not fetched you back, you would have been taken along the way, and not by friends. Unless you have a horse with wings like a raven. Do you?† â€Å"No.† Jon felt like a fool. â€Å"Pity, we could use a horse like that.† Jon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well; that much he could do, at the least. â€Å"I know the penalty for desertion, my lord. I’m not afraid to die.† â€Å"Die!† the raven cried. â€Å"Nor live, I hope,† Mormont said, cutting his ham with a dagger and feeding a bite to the bird. â€Å"You have not deserted—yet. Here you stand. If we beheaded every boy who rode to Mole’s Town in the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall. Yet maybe you mean to flee again on the morrow, or a fortnight from now. Is that it? Is that your hope, boy?† Jon kept silent. â€Å"I thought so.† Mormont peeled the shell off a boiled egg. â€Å"Your father is dead, lad. Do you think you can bring him back?† â€Å"No,† he answered, sullen. â€Å"Good,† Mormont said. â€Å"We’ve seen the dead come back, you and me, and it’s not something I care to see again.† He ate the egg in two bites and flicked a bit of shell out from between his teeth. â€Å"Your brother is in the field with all the power of the north behind him. Any one of his lords bannermen commands more swords than you’ll find in all the Night’s Watch. Why do you imagine that they need your help? Are you such a mighty warrior, or do you carry a grumkin in your pocket to magic up your sword?† Jon had no answer for him. The raven was pecking at an egg, breaking the shell. Pushing his beak through the hole, he pulled out morsels of white and yoke. The Old Bear sighed. â€Å"You are not the only one touched by this war. Like as not, my sister is marching in your brother’s host, her and those daughters of hers, dressed in men’s mail. Maege is a hoary old snark, stubborn, short-tempered, and willful. Truth be told, I can hardly stand to be around the wretched woman, but that does not mean my love for her is any less than the love you bear your half sisters.† Frowning, Mormont took his last egg and squeezed it in his fist until the shell crunched. â€Å"Or perhaps it does. Be that as it may, I’d still grieve if she were slain, yet you don’t see me running off. I said the words, just as you did. My place is here . . . where is yours, boy?† I have no place, Jon wanted to say, I’m a bastard, I have no rights, no name, no mother, and now not even a father. The words would not come. â€Å"I don’t know.† â€Å"I do,† said Lord Commander Mormont. â€Å"The cold winds are rising, Snow. Beyond the Wall, the shadows lengthen. Cotter Pyke writes of vast herds of elk, streaming south and east toward the sea, and mammoths as well. He says one of his men discovered huge, misshapen footprints not three leagues from Eastwatch. Rangers from the Shadow Tower have found whole villages abandoned, and at night Ser Denys says they see fires in the mountains, huge blazes that burn from dusk till dawn. Quorin Halfhand took a captive in the depths of the Gorge, and the man swears that Mance Rayder is massing all his people in some new, secret stronghold he’s found, to what end the gods only know. Do you think your uncle Benjen was the only ranger we’ve lost this past year?† â€Å"Ben Jen,† the raven squawked, bobbing its head, bits of egg dribbling from its beak. â€Å"Ben Jen. Ben Jen.† â€Å"No,† Jon said. There had been others. Too many. â€Å"Do you think your brother’s war is more important than ours?† the old man barked. Jon chewed his lip. The raven flapped its wings at him. â€Å"War, war, war, war,† it sang. â€Å"It’s not,† Mormont told him. â€Å"Gods save us, boy, you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?† â€Å"No.† Jon had not thought of it that way. â€Å"Your lord father sent you to us, Jon. Why, who can say?† â€Å"Why? Why? Why?† the raven called. â€Å"All I know is that the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks. The First Men built the Wall, and it’s said they remember things otherwise forgotten. And that beast of yours . . . he led us to the wights, warned you of the dead man on the steps. Ser Jaremy would doubtless call that happenstance, yet Ser Jaremy is dead and I’m not.† Lord Mormont stabbed a chunk of ham with the point of his dagger. â€Å"I think you were meant to be here, and I want you and that wolf of yours with us when we go beyond the Wall.† His words sent a chill of excitement down Jon’s back. â€Å"Beyond the Wall?† â€Å"You heard me. I mean to find Ben Stark, alive or dead.† He chewed and swallowed. â€Å"I will not sit here meekly and wait for the snows and the ice winds. We must know what is happening. This time the Night’s Watch will ride in force, against the King-beyond-the-Wall, the Others, and anything else that may be out there. I mean to command them myself.† He pointed his dagger at Jon’s chest. â€Å"By custom, the Lord Commander’s steward is his squire as well . . . but I do not care to wake every dawn wondering if you’ve run off again. So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Night’s Watch . . . or only a bastard boy who wants to play at war?† Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran . . . forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. â€Å"I am . . . yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again.† The Old Bear snorted. â€Å"Good. Now go put on your sword.† How to cite A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy, Essay examples

Twelfth Night Argumentative Essay Example For Students

Twelfth Night Argumentative Essay SummaryTwelfth Night In Shakespeares Twelfth Night, it is clearly evident that the fluctuation in attitude to the dual role and situation and tribulations imposed upon the character of Viola/Cesario ends up in a better understanding of both sexes, and thus, allows Viola to have a better understanding for Orsino. Near the opening of the play, when Viola is adopting her male identity, she creates another self, like two masks and may decide to wear one or the other while swinging between the two densities in emotion and in character. She decides to take on this identity because she has more freedom in society in her Cesario mask, which is evident when she is readily accepted by Orsino, whereas, in her female identity she would not be. Thus, a customary role in society and to the outlooks of others is portrayed. Orsino sees Cesario, as a young squire just starting out in the world, much like himself as a young, spry lad, so he has a tendency to be more willing to unload onto her with his troubles and sorrows, seeking a companion with which to share and to teach. Thus, Viola grows in her male disguise to get a better feeling for his inner self, not the self that he shows to the public, or would reveal and share with Viola in her true female self, but rather his secret self, as he believes he shares with a peer. So, she grows to love him. But, Orsinos motivation is actually not love for Viola, but rather he seems to be in love with love itself. His entire world is filled with love but he knows that there might be a turning point for him, like when he says: If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die. (206) This quote shows that he knows that he is so caught up in love, that he hopes his appetite for love may simmer when he takes more than he can handle. Near the end of the play, when all tricks and treacheries are revealed and all masks are lifted, Orsino falls in love with Viola. He first forgive s her/him of her/his duty to him, the master; then says that she shall now be her masters mistress: Your master quits you; and for your service done him, so much against the mettle of your sex, so far beneath your soft and tender breeding, and since you called me master for so long, here is my hand. You shall from this time be your masters mistress (237) This is sort of a switching love as he thought he was in love with Olivia in the beginning, but, he readily switches his love to Viola, as he feel she knows her personality well. As for Viola, she declares her love for Orsino many times, as if by saying that she would love him if she were a lady. When Orsino first sends Cesario to act as a messenger and send Orsinos love to Olivia, Cesario proclaims: Ill do my best to woo your lady; aside yet, a barful strife! Whoeer I woo, myself would be his wife. (210) This shows that Viola knows what a difficult situation that she is in, and that she might try to woo her out of loving Orsino, so that she might have him for herself; except there is a slight, unexpected twist of fateAfter Cesario leaves from Olivias, she declares: yet my state is well; I am a gentleman. Ill be sworn thou art. Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, and spirit, do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast: soft, soft! Unless the master were the man. How now! Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Methinks I feel this youths per- fections with an invisible and subtle stealth to creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What ho, Malvolio! (212) Olivia, is thinking back to her question to Cesario, and his response to it. Then she replies to Cesarios response, to herself, thinking about him. She agrees with his response, then goes over his many delightfulfeatures, and wonders how she so quickly has caught the plague of love for young Cesario. She decides that it is her feeling towards his youthful perfections that creep into her heart and to her eyes. Then she agrees with her decision, and sends for Mal volio, in hope that he may recall Cesario, so that she may talk with him again. Olivia feels a strong passionate love for Cesario, even though it was love at first sight for her. Cesario presented (himself) very magnificently and left a lasting impression in Olivias mind. The next time that Cesario came by, Olivia declared: hood, honour, truth and everything, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. (224) This verifies that Olivia is profoundly in love with Cesario, despite all his pride. But, Cesario does not possess the same sentiments for Olivia as he says: By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom and one truth, And that no woman has; nor never none shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu, good madam. (229) Here, Viola tells Olivia that she could never love her, nor any other woman because she only has one love (to Orsino) and is loyal. But, Olivia is still in love, and requests that Cesario return. Overall, Viola learns that in the role of Cesario she had to be quick on her feet, and defend the probing questions and statements as to her love and others love for her. As well she acquired the skill to bide her time, until the time was right, lest she reveal her true self or intentions. .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .postImageUrl , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:hover , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:visited , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:active { border:0!important; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:active , .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31 .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .uf2091a0510fbf4e289b86b2411188b31:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: The Breakfast Club (Intercommunications) Essay We will write a custom essay on Twelfth Night Argumentative specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now The storyAct One scene oneThis scene introduces us to the Duke, who is inlove with a girl called Olivia. His servant goes to ask her wether or notshe would like to go out with the Duke. The message back from her servantis that Olivia will not be seen in public for seven years because of thedeath of her brother.Scene Two After a shipwreck, Viola findsherself of Illyria, a coastal town. She believes that her brother hasbeen killed in the shipwreck, and that she will never get off thisisland. After learning about the Duke, she arranges with the captain ofthe ship to disguise herself and to serve the Duke. He may then fall in love with her.Scene ThreeSir Toby and Maria are talking to eachother about Olivias decision to morn for seven years. They are alsotalking about Sir Tobys drinking and friend, Sir Andrew, a foolishknight that has been brought to the castle as a suitor to Olivia. SirAndrew says he is going to leave, but Sir Toby persuades him not to, asOlivia is not interested in the Duke. Maria leaves, and Andrew and Tobydance.Scene FourViola, already disguised as Cesario (she isreferred to as Cesario instead of Viola throughout the play), has alreadybecame a servant to the Duke. Her first job is to try and persuade Oliviato go out with the Duke. Viola has fallen in love with the Duke.Scene Five Maria and Feste the clown are talking when Olivia enters withMalvolio. She has a conversation with Feste, and he gets the better ofher. Maria announces that a young man (Cesario) is here to see Olivia. She says that if he is from the Duke, she will not see him. Maria returnsand says the young man will not take no for an answer, so Olivia meetshim with Maria at her side. Cesario is very convincing about the Dukeslove, but Olivia is not unstuck. She dismisses Cesario, and when by herself, shows that she is in love with him. She sends Malvolio with aring Cesario apparently left behind, and said he should return tomorrow. Act Two Scene One Sebastian, Violias identical twin brother comesto shore after the shipwreck, saved by Antonio. He wants to beSebastians servant, but he says that he will make it to the Dukes courtby himself.Scene TwoMalvolio runs after Cesario to give him thering. He denies that he gave it to her, and so Malvolio puts it on theground in front of him. He (Viola) think that Olivia is in love withhim.Scene Three Sir Toby and Sir Andrew are talking loudly. Festejoins them and sings a romantic song for them. The other two then joinin. Maria comes down and tells them tha t they are making to much noise. Malvolio then enters and tells Sir Toby that if he doesnt stop hisdrinking, he will be banned from the house by Olivia, his niece. He thenleaves, as does Feste. Maria makes up a plan that she will leave a notethat talks of Olivias love for Malvolio.Scene FourThe Duke, stilllovesick calls for some music. Feste arrives and sings a lovesick songback to him. He leaves, and Cesario and the Duke talk. Cesario is told togo back and try to woo Olivia.Scene FiveIn this scene, the note isset for Malvolio. Sirs Toby and Andrew and Fabian who hates Malvolio,watch him behind a tree. As Malvolio walks into the scene he is thinkingwhat it would be like to be married to Olivia. He finds the note, andgoes to do what the note says, which is to dress in yellow cross garterstockings.Act Three Scene One In this scene, Cesario again goes toOlivia. She talks to Feste and Sirs Toby and Andrew. Olivia then comesout and confesses her love for Cesario. He then runs away as Oliviacontinues to pledge her love.Sc ene Two In this scene, Sir Andrew isattempting to leave the castle, as he believes that Cesario has made moreprogress towards the love of Olivia. Sir Toby and Fabian persuade him tostay, and convince sir Andrew to challenge Cesario to a fight. Maria thenenters and tells them all about Malvolio.Scene ThreeAntonio andSebastian go to an Inn and Antonio gives Sebastian his purse in case hewants to buy something. Antonio reveals that he is in trouble with theDuke.Scene FourOlivia is pondering how she will invite Cesario toher house. Malvolio enters, and he is wearing yellow cross -garteredstockings. He seems to think that he and Olivia have some sort ofunderstanding. He then leaves to let Cesario in. Meanwhile, Sir Andrewshows Maria, Sir Toby and Fabian his letter to Cesario. They urge him on. .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .postImageUrl , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:hover , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:visited , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:active { border:0!important; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:active , .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u2a523cb13d081188bbd991ea945a038a:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Alcohol And Drug Abuse EssaySir Toby delivers the challenge to Cesario, and he is very worried. Sir Toby tells Cesario that Andrew is the best fighter in the country. Hetells Andrew the same about Cesario. They start to fight. Antonio seesthis, and, mistaking Cesario for Sebastian fights for him. He is thenarrested by the police. He asks Cesario for his purse back, and Cesariodoesnt know what he is saying. He then calls Cesario Sebastian, whichgives her/him a hope. Toby and Andrew see this, and are disgusted.ActFour Scene One Feste goes to collect Cesario, and sees Sebastian. Hetakes him to Olivias house mistaking him. When he gets there, Andrewhits Sebastian, also mistaking him. The latter then smacks Andrew. Tobydraws his sword, and is quickly beaten. Olivia comes out and shouts atToby. She takes Sebastian in side, and he is in love with her.SceneTwo Malvolio is locked up in the dungeon, as everyone thinks he is mad. Feste, dresses up as Sir Topaz the Curate, and goes and teases Malvolio. The latter asks for pen and ink, but Feste refuses. He then leaves.Scene Three Sebastian, although concerned about Antonio, cant get overOlivias behaviour. She then appears with a priest, and asked Sebastianto marry her, mistaking him for Viola. He agrees.Act Five Scene OneThis long scene brings into conclusion all of the plots and thesub-plots. Feste and Fabian are discussing a letter, when the Duke entersto court Olivia in person. Antonio enters with his guards. Viola(Cesario)points out that was the man that saved her from Andrew. The Dukerecognises Antonio for his past troubles as a pirate, and demands anexplanation. He says that he and Sebastian were inseparable for the lastthree months. Cesario has been working for the Duke for the last threemonths, and so Antonio is mad. At this time, Olivia enters and callsViola tardy, and rejects the Dukes love. Viola and the Duke turn to go,but Olivia calls Viola husband. The priest backs this up. Sirs Andrew andToby enter, and say Cesario b eat them. Sebastian enters and tells Antonio not to worry, and all stare at the twins before them. Viola and Sebastianare reunited. The Duke pleads his love to Viola, as Olivia is married. Feste enters with Malvolios letter, and Malvolio is called for. Malvoliocalls Olivia a liar for writing that letter. She says that it was writtenby Maria. Fabian confesses the plot to Malvolio, and says that Sir Tobyis married to Maria. Malvolio vows his revenge on The whole lot of you,and Feste finishes the scene and play with a song.