Scene 2 introduces Viola, the play's true protagonist, and her situation could not be more different from Orsino's. Where Orsino lounges in self-created melancholy, Viola faces genuine crisis: shipwreck, possible bereavement, and the vulnerability of being a woman alone in a strange land. Her grief for Sebastian is real and immediate, yet she moves quickly from mourning to pragmatic action — a stark contrast to both Orsino's and Olivia's extended postures of suffering.
The wordplay on "perchance" (perhaps/by chance) in the scene's opening lines establishes chance and fortune as driving forces of the plot. Viola's pun connecting "Illyria" and "Elysium" (the afterlife) subtly links the play's exotic setting with a realm between life and death — a liminal space where identities can be shed and reinvented. This liminality is central to what follows.
Viola's decision to disguise herself as a man is the play's catalytic moment. Unlike many of Shakespeare's cross-dressing heroines who adopt disguise out of pure necessity, Viola's choice is strategic and deliberate. She assesses her situation, weighs her options, and devises a plan — demonstrating the resourcefulness and intelligence that will define her throughout. The disguise also introduces the play's central concern with identity: who we are versus who we appear to be, and whether outward form reveals or conceals inner truth.
The Captain's account of Sebastian clinging to a mast "like Arion on the dolphin's back" introduces a classical allusion to the poet-musician saved from drowning by music-loving dolphins. This mythological echo reinforces the play's association of music with survival and transformation, and it keeps alive the possibility that Sebastian lives — a hope the audience needs to sustain the comedy's eventual resolution.
Viola's trust in the Captain — "I will believe thou hast a mind that suits / With this thy fair and outward character" — is ironic given that she is about to make her own outward character radically misleading. Yet her instinct proves correct, and the scene establishes a pattern: in Twelfth Night, those who read character accurately (Viola, the Captain) thrive, while those deceived by surfaces (Orsino, Olivia, Malvolio) suffer comic consequences.