sources of comic effect. Puns, double meanings, and plays upon words were unfailing sources of amusement in Shakespeare's time. There is hardly anything that the Elizabethan mind delighted in more than tricks of language. These are sometimes so subtle and far-fetched that unless the reader is constantly on the alert he misses much of the fun. In Twelfth Night, for instance, when Sir Andrew is disappointed with himself as a lover, since he can make no impression on Sir Toby's niece, whom he has come to woo, the dialogue

runs:

Sir Andrew. I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I but followed the arts!

"Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir Andrew. Why, would that have mended my hair?

Sir Toby. Past question, for thou seest it will not curl by nature."

The point is in the somewhat strained pun between "tongues" (languages) and "tongs" (a curling iron). Shakespeare's audience enjoyed this heartily. The careless modern reader often passes the joke by unnoticed.

The comic effect of unusual characters is also strong in Twelfth Night. Sir Andrew is a good example. Sir Toby says of him: "He's as tall (courageous) a man as any's in Illyria. He plays o' the viol-de-gamboys and speaks three or four languages word for word without book and hath all the good gifts of nature." But Sir Toby is lying: he believes no such thing. Maria is nearer right when she calls Sir Andrew a natural-born fool. He is, indeed, a most simple and thin-headed knight and as rank a coward as ever ran from danger. He is the butt of all ridicule and never finds it out. He never has a complete thought of his own. His mentality is well illustrated when he exclaims against Malvolio, "Fie

on him, Jezebel." Poor Sir Andrew! He has picked up somewhere the half idea that Jezebel is a term of reproach, and that it has something to do with pride; but he has no idea that Jezebel is the name of a woman. And Malvolio, too, the vain, the pompous, the gullible, how he struts and poses and makes himself ridiculous upon the slightest provocation, a butt of merriment for the fine wit of Sir Toby and Maria! And not less in interest is Sir Toby himself, a toper and a wit, a true kinsman of Falstaff.

And what shall we say of the comic situations where there is "discrepancy between expectation and fulfillment"? Such is the famous garden scene in Act II, where Sir Toby and his companions in hiding in the box-tree for the purpose of having sport with Malvolio, hear, like most eavesdroppers, unexpected and unpleasant things about themselves.

Another comic situation is the duel scene (Act III, Scene iv) where Sir Andrew and Viola are forced to cross swords. Sir Andrew believes her to be " a very devil in private brawl, souls and bodies hath he divorced three." And Viola, poor lady youth, thinks Sir Andrew "the most skillful, bloody, and fatal opposite that could possibly be found in any part of Illyria." They approach each other gingerly, looking pale and glancing about for some means of escape, shuddering as the rapiers come near enough to clash. The incongruity of it all produces the comedy.

Last of all, the plot of the play is comic. A typical comedy has a structure of its own different from the tragic structure. It is not a passion struggle rising to a climax and reverting to a catastrophe, but an entanglement of various threads of story, a complication of experiences developing a tangle of mistakes and misunderstandings, until the confusion is set right at the end. Twelfth Night represents, not regular or pure comedy, but the type known as "romantic comedy,"

F

in which the main plot is a love story and the subplot a comic intrigue. The first act of Twelfth Night presents two independent situations: the love affairs of Viola and the Duke and the comic intrigues of Sir Toby and Maria. In the former, a triangular love situation is set up: the Duke is in love with Olivia, Olivia with Viola, Viola with the Duke. In the latter, the witty, rollicking Sir Toby, the simple emptyheaded Sir Andrew, and the clever Maria - an incongruous group in the house of mourning - begin to plan their practical jokes. In Act II these elements of plot are developed side by side. In the main plot the love of Viola for the Duke and the love of Olivia for Viola are emphasized and contrasted. In the subplot the intrigue against Malvolio takes the prominent place. A third episode is promised by the introduction of Antonio and Sebastian. In the third act the first three scenes are devoted to these three lines of plot in turn: (1) Olivia betrays her love for Viola, (2) Malvolio makes a fool of himself before his lady, and Sir Toby persuades Sir Andrew to challenge Viola, (3) Sebastian and Antonio arrive in the town. The fourth scene presents the entanglement; the challenge is made, Sir Andrew and Viola are brought together as "most fearful and bloody opposites," complicating the two important stories, and presently Antonio's arrival and interference bring in the third plot element to increase the general confusion. In the short fourth act the highest point of complication is reached in the meeting and marriage of Olivia and Sebastian. This act also contains the climax of the practical joke upon Malvolio, when the poor steward, in durance for madness, is baited by Sir Toby and the clown. The fifth act contains the readjustment in a single scene, elaborately developed. All the threads of plot are presented in complete entanglement; then the final readjustment is made.