« ПредишнаНапред »
TALES FROM SHAKESPEAR.
TALE THE ELEVENTH.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS
Bertram. count of Rossilion, had newly come to his title and estate, by the death of his father. The king of France loved the father of Bertram, and when he heard of his death, he sent for his son to come immediately to his royal court in Paris; intending, for the friend* ship he bore the late count, to grace young Bertram with his especial favour and protection.
Bertram was living with his mother, the widowed countess, when Lafeu, an old lord of the French court, came to conduct Bertram to the king. The king of France was an absolute
VOL. II. A
monarch, and the invitation to court was in the form of a royal mandate, or positive command, which no subject of what high dignity soever might disobey; therefore though the countess, in parting with this dear son, seemed a second time to bury her husband, whose loss she had so lately mourned, yet she dared not to keep him a single day, but gave instant orders for his departure. Lafeu, who came to fetch him, tried to comfort the countess for the loss of her late lord, and her son's sudden absence; and he said, in a courtier's flattering manner, that the king was so kind a prince, she would find in his majesty a husband, and that he would be a father to her son: meaning only that the good king would befriend the fortunes of Bertram. Lafeu told the countess that the king had fallen into a sad malady, which was pronounced by his physicians to be incurable. The lady expressed great sorrow on hearing this account of the king's ill health, and said, she wished the father of Helena (a young gentlewoman who was present in attendance upon her) were living, for that she doubted not he could have cured his majesty of his disease. And she told Lafeu something of the history of Helena, saying she
was the only daughter of the famous physician Gerard de Narbon, and that he bad recommended his daughter to her care when he was dying, so that since his death she had taken Helena under her protection; then the countess praised the virtuous disposition and excellent qualities of Helena, saying she inherited these virtues from her worthy father. While she was speaking, Helena wept in sad and mournful silence, which made the countess gently reprove her for too much grieving for her father's death.
Bertram now bade his mother farewel. The countess parted with this dear son with tears and many blessings, and commended him to the care of Lafeu, saying, M Good my lord, advise him, for he js an unseasoned courtier."
- Bertram's last words were spoken to Helena, but they were words of mere civility, wishing her happiness; and he concluded his short farewel to her with saying, "Be comfortable to my mother your mistress, and make much of her."
Helena had long loved Bertram, and when she wept in sad and mournful silence, the tears she shed were pot for Gerard de Narbon. Helena loved her father, but in the present feeling of a per love, the object of which she was about to lose, she had forgotten the very form and features of her dead father, her imagination presenting no image to her mind but Bertram's.
Helena had long loved Bertram, yet she always remembered that he was the count of Rossilion, descended from the most ancient family in France. She of humble birth. Her parents of no note at all. His ancestors all noble. And therefore she looked up to the high-born Bertram, as to her master and to her dear lord, and dared not form any wish but to live his servant, and so living to die his vassal. So great the distance seemed to her between his height of dignity and her lowly fortunes, that she would say, "It were all one that I should love a bright peculiar star and think to wed it, Bertram is so far above me."
Bertram's absence filled her eyes with tears, and her heart with sorrow; for though she loved without hope, yet it was a pretty comfort to her to see him every hour, and Helena would sit and look upon his dark eye, his arched brow, and the curls of his fine hair, till she seemed to draw his portrait on the tablet of her heart, that heart too capable of retaining the memory of every line in the features of that loved face.