Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare
Fear of the King, however, could not make him a lover. Ridicule helped
to sour him. A base soldier named Parolles told him to his face that
now he had a “kicky-wicky” his business was not to fight but to stay
at home. “Kicky-wicky” was only a silly epithet for a wife, but it made
Bertram feel he could not bear having a wife, and that he must go to the
war in Italy, though the King had forbidden him.
Helena he ordered to take leave of the King and return to Rousillon,
giving her letters for his mother and herself. He then rode off, bidding
her a cold good-bye.
She opened the letter addressed to herself, and read, “When you can get
the ring from my finger you can call me husband, but against that 'when'
I write 'never.'”
Dry-eyed had Helena been when she entered the King's presence and said
farewell, but he was uneasy on her account, and gave her a ring from
his own finger, saying, “If you send this to me, I shall know you are in
trouble, and help you.”
She did not show him Bertram's letter to his wife; it would have made
him wish to kill the truant Count; but she went back to Rousillon and
handed her mother-in-law the second letter. It was short and bitter. “I
have run away,” it said. “If the world be broad enough, I will be always
far away from her.”
“Cheer up,” said the noble widow to the deserted wife. “I wash his name
out of my blood, and you alone are my child.”
The Dowager Countess, however, was still mother enough to Bertram to lay
the blame of his conduct on Parolles, whom she called “a very tainted
fellow.”
Helena did not stay long at Rousillon. She clad herself as a pilgrim,
and, leaving a letter for her mother-in-law, secretly set out for
Florence.
On entering that city she inquired of a woman the way to the Pilgrims'
House of Rest, but the woman begged “the holy pilgrim” to lodge with
her.
Helena found that her hostess was a widow, who had a beautiful daughter
named Diana.
When Diana heard that Helena came from France, she said, “A countryman
of yours, Count Rousillon, has done worthy service for Florence.” But
after a time, Diana had something to tell which was not at all worthy of
Helena's husband. Bertram was making love to Diana. He did not hide the
fact that he was married, but Diana heard from Parolles that his wife
was not worth caring for.
The widow was anxious for Diana's sake, and Helena decided to inform her
that she was the Countess Rousillon.
“He keeps asking Diana for a lock of her hair,” said the widow.
Helena smiled mournfully, for her hair was as fine as Diana's and of the
same color. Then an idea struck her, and she said, “Take this purse of
gold for yourself. I will give Diana three thousand crowns if she will
help me to carry out this plan. Let her promise to give a lock of her
hair to my husband if he will give her the ring which he wears on his
finger. It is an ancestral ring. Five Counts of Rousillon have worn it,
yet he will yield it up for a lock of your daughter's hair. Let your
daughter insist that he shall cut the lock of hair from her in a dark
room, and agree in advance that she shall not speak a single word.”
The widow listened attentively, with the purse of gold in her lap. She
said at last, “I consent, if Diana is willing.”
Diana was willing, and, strange to say, the prospect of cutting off
a lock of hair from a silent girl in a dark room was so pleasing to
Bertram that he handed Diana his ring, and was told when to follow her
into the dark room. At the time appointed he came with a sharp knife,
and felt a sweet face touch his as he cut off the lock of hair, and he
left the room satisfied, like a man who is filled with renown, and on
his finger was a ring which the girl in the dark room had given him.
The war was nearly over, but one of its concluding chapters taught
Bertram that the soldier who had been impudent enough to call Helena his
“kicky-wicky” was far less courageous than a wife. Parolles was such
a boaster, and so fond of trimings to his clothes, that the French
officers played him a trick to discover what he was made of. He had lost
his drum, and had said that he would regain it unless he was killed in
the attempt. His attempt was a very poor one, and he was inventing the
story of a heroic failure, when he was surrounded and disarmed.
“Portotartarossa,” said a French lord.
“What horrible lingo is this?” thought Parolles, who had been
blindfolded.
“He's calling for the tortures,” said a French man, affecting to act as
interpreter. “What will you say without 'em?”
“As much,” replied Parolles, “as I could possibly say if you pinched me
like a pasty.” He was as good as his word. He told them how many there
were in each regiment of the Florentine army, and he refreshed them with
spicy anecdotes of the officers commanding it.
Bertram was present, and heard a letter read, in which Parolles told
Diana that he was a fool.
“This is your devoted friend,” said a French lord.
“He is a cat to me now,” said Bertram, who detested our hearthrug pets.
Parolles was finally let go, but henceforth he felt like a sneak, and
was not addicted to boasting.
We now return to France with Helena, who had spread a report of her
death, which was conveyed to the Dowager Countess at Rousillon by Lafeu,
a lord who wished to marry his daughter Magdalen to Bertram.
The King mourned for Helena, but he approved of the marriage proposed
for Bertram, and paid a visit to Rousillon in order to see it
accomplished.
“His great offense is dead,” he said. “Let Bertram approach me.”
Then Bertram, scarred in the cheek, knelt before his Sovereign, and said
that if he had not loved Lafeu's daughter before he married Helena, he
would have prized his wife, whom he now loved when it was too late.
“Love that is late offends the Great Sender,” said the King. “Forget
sweet Helena, and give a ring to Magdalen.”
Bertram immediately gave a ring to Lafeu, who said indignantly, “It's
Helena's!”
“It's not!” said Bertram.
Hereupon the King asked to look at the ring, and said, “This is the ring
I gave to Helena, and bade her send to me if ever she needed help. So
you had the cunning to get from her what could help her most.”
Bertram denied again that the ring was Helena's, but even his mother
said it was.
“You lie!” exclaimed the King. “Seize him, guards!” but even while they
were seizing him, Bertram wondered how the ring, which he thought Diana
had given him, came to be so like Helena's. A gentleman now entered,
craving permission to deliver a petition to the King. It was a petition
signed Diana Capilet, and it begged that the King would order Bertram to
marry her whom he had deserted after winning her love.
“I'd sooner buy a son-in-law at a fair than take Bertram now,” said
Lafeu.
“Admit the petitioner,” said the King.
Bertram found himself confronted by Diana and her mother. He denied
that Diana had any claim on him, and spoke of her as though her life was
spent in the gutter. But she asked him what sort of gentlewoman it
was to whom he gave, as to her he gave, the ring of his ancestors now
missing from his finger?
Bertram was ready to sink into the earth, but fate had one crowning
generosity reserved for him. Helena entered.
“Do I see reality?” asked the King.
“O pardon! pardon!” cried Bertram.
She held up his ancestral ring. “Now that I have this,” said she, “will
you love me, Bertram?”
“To the end of my life,” cried he.
“My eyes smell onions,” said Lafeu. Tears for Helena were twinkling in
them.
The King praised Diana when he was fully informed by that not very shy
young lady of the meaning of her conduct. For Helena's sake she had
wished to expose Bertram's meanness, not only to the King, but to
himself. His pride was now in shreds, and it is believed that he made a
husband of some sort after all.
PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF NAMES.
[Key.--
a,e,i,o,u -- as in hat, bet, it, hot, hut;
â,ê,î,ô,û -- as in ate, mote, mite, mote, mute;
å -- as in America, freeman, coward;
ë -- as in her, fern;
ü -- as in burn, furl. ]
Adriana (ad-ri-â'-nå)
AEgeon (ê'-ge-on)
AEmilia (ê-mil'-i-å)
Alcibiades (al-si-bî'-å-dêz)
Aliena (â-li-ê'-nå)
Angelo (an'-je-lô)
Antioch (an'-ti-ok)
Antiochus (an-tî'-o-kus)
Antipholus (an-tif'-o-lus)
Antonio (an-tô'-ni-ô)
Apemantus (ap-e-man'-tus)
Apollo (å-pol'-ô)
Ariel (â'ri-el)
Arragon (ar'-å-gon)
Banquo (ban'-kwô)
Baptista (bap-tis'-tå)
Bassanio (bas-sa'-ni-ô)
Beatrice (bê'å-tris)
Bellario (bel-lâ'-ri-ô)
Bellarius (bel-lâ'-ri-us)
Benedick (ben'-e-dik)
Benvolio (ben-vô'-li-ô)
Bertram (bër'-tram)
Bianca (bê-an'-kå)
Borachio (bô-rach'-i-ô)
Brabantio (brå-ban'chô)
Burgundy (bür'-gun-di)
Caliban (kal'-i-ban)
Camillo (kå-mil'-ô)
Capulet (kap'-û-let)
Cassio (kas'-i-ô)
Celia (sê'-li-å)
Centaur (sen'-tawr)
Cerimon (sê'-ri-mon)
Cesario (se-sâ'-ri-ô)
Claudio (klaw'-di-ô)
Claudius (klaw'-di-us)
Cordelia (kawr-dê'-li-å)
Cornwall (kawrn'-wawl)
Cymbeline (sim'-be-lên)
Demetrius (de-mê'-tri-us)
Desdemona (des-de-mô-nå)
Diana (dî-an'-å)
Dionyza (dî-ô-nî'-zå)
Donalbain (don'-al-ban)
Doricles (dor'-i-klêz)
Dromio (drô'-mi-ô)
Duncan (dung'-kån)
Emilia (ê-mil'-i-å)
Ephesus (ef'e-sus)
Escalus (es'-kå-lus)
Ferdinand (fër'-di-nand)
Flaminius (flå-min'-i-us)
Flavius (flâ'-vi-us)
Fleance (flê'-ans)
Florizel (flor'-i-zel)
Ganymede (gan'-i-mêd)
Giulio (jû'-li-ô)
Goneril (gon'-e-ril)
Gonzalo (gon-zah'-lô)
Helena (hel'-e-nå)
Helicanus (hel-i-kâ'nus)
Hercules (hër'kû-lêz)
Hermia (hër'mi-å)
Hermione (hër-mî'-o-nê)
Horatio (hô-râ'-shi-ô)
Hortensio (hor-ten'-si-ô)
Iachimo (yak'-i-mô)
Iago (ê-ah-gô)
Illyria ((il-lir'-i-å)
Imogen (im'-o-jen)
Jessica (jes'-i-kå)
Juliet (ju'li-et)
Laertes (lâ-ër'-têz)
Lafeu (lah-fu')
Lear (lêr)
Leodovico (lê-ô-dô'-vi-kô)
Leonato (lê-ô-nâ'-tô)
Leontes (lê-on-têz)
Luciana (lû-shi-â'nå)
Lucio (lû'-shi-ô)
Lucius (lû'-shi-us)
Lucullus (lû-kul'-us)
Lysander (lî-san'-dër)
Lysimachus (lî-sim'-å-kus)
Macbeth (mak-beth')
Magdalen (mag'-då-len)
Malcolm (mal'-kum)
Malvolio (mal-vô'li-ô)
Mantua (man-'tû-å)
Mariana (mah-ri-â'-na)
Menaphon (men'-å-fon)
Mercutio (mer-kû'-shi-ô)
Messina (mes-sê'-nah)
Milan (mil'-ån)
Miranda (mî-ran'-då)
Mitylene (mit-ê-lê'-nê)
Montagu (mon'-tå-gû)
Montano (mon-tah'-nô)
Oberon (ob'-ër-on)
Olivia (ô-liv'-i-å)
Ophelia (ô-fêl'-i-å or o-fêl'-yå)
Orlando (awr-lan'-dô)
Orsino (awr-sê'-nô)
Othello (ô-thel'-ô)
Parolles (pa-rol'-êz)
Paulina (paw-lî'-nå)
Pentapolis (pen-tap'-o-lis)
Perdita (për'-di-tå)