Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare
him hide it; and when he came back, he found the King and Queen, and the
Court, weeping at the funeral of his dear love and lady.
Ophelia's brother, Laertes, had also just come to Court to ask justice
for the death of his father, old Polonius; and now, wild with grief, he
leaped into his sister's grave, to clasp her in his arms once more.
“I loved her more than forty thousand brothers,” cried Hamlet, and leapt
into the grave after him, and they fought till they were parted.
Afterwards Hamlet begged Laertes to forgive him.
“I could not bear,” he said, “that any, even a brother, should seem to
love her more than I.”
But the wicked Claudius would not let them be friends. He told Laertes
how Hamlet had killed old Polonius, and between them they made a plot to
slay Hamlet by treachery.
Laertes challenged him to a fencing match, and all the Court were
present. Hamlet had the blunt foil always used in fencing, but Laertes
had prepared for himself a sword, sharp, and tipped with poison. And the
wicked King had made ready a bowl of poisoned wine, which he meant
to give poor Hamlet when he should grow warm with the sword play, and
should call for drink.
So Laertes and Hamlet fought, and Laertes, after some fencing, gave
Hamlet a sharp sword thrust. Hamlet, angry at this treachery--for
they had been fencing, not as men fight, but as they play--closed with
Laertes in a struggle; both dropped their swords, and when they picked
them up again, Hamlet, without noticing it, had exchanged his own blunt
sword for Laertes' sharp and poisoned one. And with one thrust of it he
pierced Laertes, who fell dead by his own treachery.
At this moment the Queen cried out, “The drink, the drink! Oh, my dear
Hamlet! I am poisoned!”
She had drunk of the poisoned bowl the King had prepared for Hamlet, and
the King saw the Queen, whom, wicked as he was, he really loved, fall
dead by his means.
Then Ophelia being dead, and Polonius, and the Queen, and Laertes, and
the two courtiers who had been sent to England, Hamlet at last found
courage to do the ghost's bidding and avenge his father's murder--which,
if he had braced up his heart to do long before, all these lives
had been spared, and none had suffered but the wicked King, who well
deserved to die.
Hamlet, his heart at last being great enough to do the deed he ought,
turned the poisoned sword on the false King.
“Then--venom--do thy work!” he cried, and the King died.
So Hamlet in the end kept the promise he had made his father. And all
being now accomplished, he himself died. And those who stood by saw him
die, with prayers and tears, for his friends and his people loved him
with their whole hearts. Thus ends the tragic tale of Hamlet, Prince of
Denmark.
CYMBELINE
Cymbeline was the King of Britain. He had three children. The two sons
were stolen away from him when they were quite little children, and he
was left with only one daughter, Imogen. The King married a second
time, and brought up Leonatus, the son of a dear friend, as Imogen's
playfellow; and when Leonatus was old enough, Imogen secretly married
him. This made the King and Queen very angry, and the King, to punish
Leonatus, banished him from Britain.
Poor Imogen was nearly heart-broken at parting from Leonatus, and he was
not less unhappy. For they were not only lovers and husband and wife,
but they had been friends and comrades ever since they were quite little
children. With many tears and kisses they said “Good-bye.” They promised
never to forget each other, and that they would never care for anyone
else as long as they lived.
“This diamond was my mother's, love,” said Imogen; “take it, my heart,
and keep it as long as you love me.”
“Sweetest, fairest,” answered Leonatus, “wear this bracelet for my
sake.”
“Ah!” cried Imogen, weeping, “when shall we meet again?”
And while they were still in each other's arms, the King came in, and
Leonatus had to leave without more farewell.
When he was come to Rome, where he had gone to stay with an old friend
of his father's, he spent his days still in thinking of his dear Imogen,
and his nights in dreaming of her. One day at a feast some Italian and
French noblemen were talking of their sweethearts, and swearing that
they were the most faithful and honorable and beautiful ladies in the
world. And a Frenchman reminded Leonatus how he had said many times that
his wife Imogen was more fair, wise, and constant than any of the ladies
in France.
“I say so still,” said Leonatus.
“She is not so good but that she would deceive,” said Iachimo, one of
the Italian nobles.
“She never would deceive,” said Leonatus.
“I wager,” said Iachimo, “that, if I go to Britain, I can persuade your
wife to do whatever I wish, even if it should be against your wishes.”
“That you will never do,” said Leonatus. “I wager this ring upon my
finger,” which was the very ring Imogen had given him at parting, “that
my wife will keep all her vows to me, and that you will never persuade
her to do otherwise.”
So Iachimo wagered half his estate against the ring on Leonatus's
finger, and started forthwith for Britain, with a letter of introduction
to Leonatus's wife. When he reached there he was received with all
kindness; but he was still determined to win his wager.
He told Imogen that her husband thought no more of her, and went on to
tell many cruel lies about him. Imogen listened at first, but presently
perceived what a wicked person Iachimo was, and ordered him to leave
her. Then he said--
“Pardon me, fair lady, all that I have said is untrue. I only told you
this to see whether you would believe me, or whether you were as much to
be trusted as your husband thinks. Will you forgive me?”
“I forgive you freely,” said Imogen.
“Then,” went on Iachimo, “perhaps you will prove it by taking charge of
a trunk, containing a number of jewels which your husband and I and some
other gentlemen have bought as a present for the Emperor of Rome.”
“I will indeed,” said Imogen, “do anything for my husband and a friend
of my husband's. Have the jewels sent into my room, and I will take care
of them.”
“It is only for one night,” said Iachimo, “for I leave Britain again
to-morrow.”
So the trunk was carried into Imogen's room, and that night she went to
bed and to sleep. When she was fast asleep, the lid of the trunk opened
and a man got out. It was Iachimo. The story about the jewels was as
untrue as the rest of the things he had said. He had only wished to get
into her room to win his wicked wager. He looked about him and noticed
the furniture, and then crept to the side of the bed where Imogen
was asleep and took from her arm the gold bracelet which had been the
parting gift of her husband. Then he crept back to the trunk, and next
morning sailed for Rome.
When he met Leonatus, he said--
“I have been to Britain and I have won the wager, for your wife no
longer thinks about you. She stayed talking with me all one night in her
room, which is hung with tapestry and has a carved chimney-piece, and
silver andirons in the shape of two winking Cupids.”
“I do not believe she has forgotten me; I do not believe she stayed
talking with you in her room. You have heard her room described by the
servants.”
“Ah!” said Iachimo, “but she gave me this bracelet. She took it from
her arm. I see her yet. Her pretty action did outsell her gift, and yet
enriched it too. She gave it me, and said she prized it once.”
“Take the ring,” cried Leonatus, “you have won; and you might have
won my life as well, for I care nothing for it now I know my lady has
forgotten me.”
And mad with anger, he wrote letters to Britain to his old servant,
Pisanio, ordering him to take Imogen to Milford Haven, and to murder
her, because she had forgotten him and given away his gift. At the same
time he wrote to Imogen herself, telling her to go with Pisanio, his old
servant, to Milford Haven, and that he, her husband, would be there to
meet her.
Now when Pisanio got this letter he was too good to carry out its
orders, and too wise to let them alone altogether. So he gave Imogen the
letter from her husband, and started with her for Milford Haven. Before
he left, the wicked Queen gave him a drink which, she said, would be
useful in sickness. She hoped he would give it to Imogen, and that
Imogen would die, and the wicked Queen's son could be King. For the
Queen thought this drink was a poison, but really and truly it was only
a sleeping-draft.
When Pisanio and Imogen came near to Milford Haven, he told her what was
really in the letter he had had from her husband.
“I must go on to Rome, and see him myself,” said Imogen.
And then Pisanio helped her to dress in boy's clothes, and sent her
on her way, and went back to the Court. Before he went he gave her the
drink he had had from the Queen.
Imogen went on, getting more and more tired, and at last came to a cave.
Someone seemed to live there, but no one was in just then. So she went
in, and as she was almost dying of hunger, she took some food she saw
there, and had just done so, when an old man and two boys came into the
cave. She was very much frightened when she saw them, for she thought
that they would be angry with her for taking their food, though she
had meant to leave money for it on the table. But to her surprise they
welcomed her kindly. She looked very pretty in her boy's clothes and her
face was good, as well as pretty.
“You shall be our brother,” said both the boys; and so she stayed with
them, and helped to cook the food, and make things comfortable. But one
day when the old man, whose name was Bellarius, was out hunting with
the two boys, Imogen felt ill, and thought she would try the medicine
Pisanio had given her. So she took it, and at once became like a dead
creature, so that when Bellarius and the boys came back from hunting,
they thought she was dead, and with many tears and funeral songs, they
carried her away and laid her in the wood, covered with flowers.
They sang sweet songs to her, and strewed flowers on her, pale
primroses, and the azure harebell, and eglantine, and furred moss, and
went away sorrowful. No sooner had they gone than Imogen awoke, and not
knowing how she came there, nor where she was, went wandering through
the wood.
Now while Imogen had been living in the cave, the Romans had decided to
attack Britain, and their army had come over, and with them Leonatus,
who had grown sorry for his wickedness against Imogen, so had come
back, not to fight with the Romans against Britain, but with the Britons
against Rome. So as Imogen wandered alone, she met with Lucius, the
Roman General, and took service with him as his page.
When the battle was fought between the Romans and Britons, Bellarius and
his two boys fought for their own country, and Leonatus, disguised as
a British peasant, fought beside them. The Romans had taken Cymbeline
prisoner, and old Bellarius, with his sons and Leonatus, bravely rescued
the King. Then the Britons won the battle, and among the prisoners
brought before the King were Lucius, with Imogen, Iachimo, and Leonatus,
who had put on the uniform of a Roman soldier. He was tired of his life
since he had cruelly ordered his wife to be killed, and he hoped that,
as a Roman soldier, he would be put to death.
When they were brought before the King, Lucius spoke out--
“A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer,” he said. “If I must die, so
be it. This one thing only will I entreat. My boy, a Briton born, let
him be ransomed. Never master had a page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
true. He has done no Briton harm, though he has served a Roman. Save
him, Sir.”
Then Cymbeline looked on the page, who was his own daughter, Imogen, in