It hath happen’d all as I would have had it, save that he comes not
along with her.
Everything has happened exactly as I wanted, except that he doesn't come along with her.
Everything worked out just like I hoped, except he's not coming with her.
everything worked out except he's not with her
By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.
By my word, I consider my young lord to be an extremely melancholy man.
Honestly, I think your young lord is a pretty sad guy.
your young lord's super sad
By what observance, I pray you?
Based on what observations, I ask you?
What makes you think that?
what makes u say that?
Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the ruff and sing; ask
questions and sing; pick his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this
trick of melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song.
Well, he will look at his boot and sing; fix the collar and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth and sing. I know a man who had this habit of melancholy and sold a fine manor for almost nothing.
He just sings about everything - his boots, his collar, questions, picking his teeth. I knew a guy like that who got so depressed he sold off his nice house for basically nothing.
he sings about everything. i knew a guy who got so sad he sold his house for nothing
Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come.
I would like to see what he has written and when he intends to arrive.
Let me read what he wrote and when he's coming.
what'd he write? when's he coming?
I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our old lings and our
Isbels o’ th’ country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o’
th’ court. The brains of my Cupid’s knock’d out, and I begin to love,
as an old man loves money, with no stomach.
I have no interest in Isbel since I was at court. Our country girls are nothing like your court girls. My capacity for love is destroyed, and I begin to love like an old man loves money - without any enthusiasm.
I'm done with Isbel since I went to court. Country girls are nothing like court girls. My whole ability to love is dead - I'm like an old guy hoarding money, totally passionless.
done w/ isbel. court girls r nothing like country girls. can't love anymore. like some old dude w/ money
What have we here?
What is this that we hold?
What's this?
what is it?
E’en that you have there.
Just what you are holding.
That thing you are holding.
that thing u got
[_Reads._] _I have sent you a daughter-in-law; she hath recovered the
king and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her, and sworn to
make the “not” eternal. You shall hear I am run away; know it before
the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a
long distance. My duty to you.
Your unfortunate son,_
[Reading] I have sent you a daughter-in-law; she has recovered the king and ruined me. I have married her, not slept with her, and sworn to make the 'not' permanent. You will hear that I have run away; know it before others report it. If there is enough distance in the world, I will keep far away. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son.
[Reading] I've sent you a new daughter-in-law; she cured the king and destroyed me. I married her, but I'm not sleeping with her, and I've sworn to keep it that way forever. I'm running away—find out from me, not from gossip. If the world is big enough, I'll stay far away. Your miserable son.
ive married her but not sleeping with her running away kill me your unfortunate son
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of so good a king,
To pluck his indignation on thy head
By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
This is wrong, rash and wild boy, to flee from the favor of such a good king, to bring his anger down on your head by disrespecting a maiden too virtuous for the scorn of a kingdom.
This is not okay, you wild reckless boy, running from the favor of such a good king, pulling his anger down on yourself by disrespecting a girl too good to be treated with contempt.
not okay you reckless boy running from the king's favor putting down a girl too good for that
Bertram's letter to his mother ('I have wedded her, not bedded her, and sworn to make the not eternal') is one of the coldest pieces of communication in Shakespeare. But it's worth understanding what it's actually trying to do, legally and emotionally. In Elizabethan marriage law, consummation was the final step that made a marriage fully binding — an unconsummated marriage could potentially be annulled. By swearing never to bed Helena, Bertram is attempting to keep the marriage in a permanently incomplete state. His conditions — get my ring (never given), produce my child (impossible without consummation) — are designed to be logically impossible simultaneously. You can't get the ring without his cooperation; you can't have his child without his body. He has constructed what he thinks is an airtight escape. He has not counted on Helena's ingenuity, or on the strange slippage between the letter and spirit of his own words.
O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two soldiers and my young
lady.
Oh madam, there is heavy news happening inside between two soldiers and my young lady.
Ma'am, there is serious news going on in there with the soldiers and your daughter.
ma'am there's serious news w/ the soldiers & ur daughter inside
What is the matter?
What has happened?
What is wrong?
what's wrong?
Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not
be kill’d so soon as I thought he would.
No, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed as soon as I thought.
Well, actually, there is some good news - your son will not be killed as soon as I expected.
good news ur son won't die as soon as i thought
Why should he be kill’d?
Why should he be killed?
Why would he be killed?
why would he die?
So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does; the danger is in
standing to’t; that’s the loss of men, though it be the getting of
children. Here they come will tell you more. For my part, I only hear
your son was run away.
That is what I say, madam, if he runs away, as I hear he does; the danger is in fighting it; that is where men are lost, though it is where children are made. Here they come to tell you more. As for me, I only heard your son ran away.
That is what I mean - if he is running away like I hear, the risk is in the fighting itself, where men die but babies get made. These people coming can tell you more. All I know is your son took off.
if he runs that's where men die but babies r made. all i know is he left
Save you, good madam.
Greetings, good madam.
Hello, ma'am.
hey ma'am
Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
Madam, my lord is gone, gone forever.
Ma'am, he is gone. Really gone.
he's gone. for real gone
Do not say so.
Do not say that.
Don't speak such words.
don't say that
Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen,—
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief
That the first face of neither on the start
Can woman me unto ’t. Where is my son, I pray you?
Think about patience. I ask you, gentlemen, I have felt so many sudden twists of joy and sorrow that the first appearance of either one cannot affect me as expected. Where is my son, I ask you?
Let us be patient here. Gentlemen, look, I have been through so many ups and downs that I cannot just fall apart on cue anymore. Where is my son?
i've been thru so much i can't just fall apart now where's my son?
Madam, he’s gone to serve the Duke of Florence;
We met him thitherward, for thence we came,
And, after some despatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.
Madam, he has gone to serve the Duke of Florence; We met him heading that way, since that is where we came from, And after we finish business at court, we are heading back there.
Ma'am, he went to serve the Duke of Florence. We ran into him heading there - that is where we just came from - and once we are done at court here, we are heading back.
he went to serve the duke of florence we saw him heading that way we're going back after court
Helena's final soliloquy in 3-2 — 'O you leaden messengers...' — has been read in radically different ways by directors and critics. One reading is that it's pure, transcendent love: she fears for his safety so deeply that she would suffer anything to protect him, and her decision to disappear is an act of radical selflessness. Another reading is more disturbing: a woman so thoroughly conditioned to define herself through a man that she can only imagine her own value as the negative of his pain. To remove herself is the only power she has — and she exercises it. Both readings can be true simultaneously. What's striking about the soliloquy is how it turns on 'poor thief' — Helena calls herself a thief who steals away. But later in the play, she will also be a different kind of thief: stealing into Bertram's bed, stealing his ring, stealing the conditions he thought were impossible. The soliloquy sets up a character who has learned, from this moment of apparent powerlessness, that action under cover of darkness is her mode.
Look on this letter, madam; here’s my passport.
Look at this letter, madam; this is my permission to go.
Read this letter, ma'am. This is my way out.
read this. this is my way out
[_Reads._] _When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never
shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body that I am
father to, then call me husband; but in such a “then” I write a
“never”._
This is a dreadful sentence.
[Reading] When you can get the ring on my finger—which will never come off—and show me a child created by your body, of which I am the father, then call me husband; but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' This is a dreadful sentence.
[Reading] Get my ring—the one that never comes off—and get pregnant with my child and prove I'm the father. Then I'll be your husband. Except I'm saying 'never' the whole time. This is so cruel.
get my ring get pregnant with my child then ill be your husband never
Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
Did you bring this letter, gentlemen?
You all brought this letter?
u brought this letter?
Ay, madam; And for the contents’ sake, are sorry for our pains.
Yes, madam, and because of what is in it, we regret the trouble we had to go through.
Yes, ma'am, and we are sorry we had to be the ones to tell you.
ya. sorry we had to bring this
I pr’ythee, lady, have a better cheer;
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb’st me of a moiety. He was my son,
But I do wash his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?
I ask you, lady, be of better cheer; If you take all the sorrows that are yours, You rob me of my share. He was my son, But I wash his name from my heart, And you are all my child. Is he going to Florence?
Please, lady, cheer up; If you keep all that grief to yourself, I lose my part of it. He was my son, But I am erasing his name from my life, And you are my whole child now. He is heading to Florence?
pls cheer up if u take all the grief he was my son but i'm done w/ him u r my whole child. he going to florence?
Ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
And to be a soldier?
And to become a soldier?
And as a soldier?
gonna be a soldier?
Such is his noble purpose, and, believe’t,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
That is his noble purpose, and believe it, The duke will give him all the honor that circumstances rightly allow.
That is what he wants to do, and trust me, The duke will give him all the honors that come with the job.
yeah that's his plan duke will give him all the honor he deserves
Return you thither?
Will you return there?
You heading back?
u heading back?
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Yes, madam, with the fastest speed possible.
Yes, ma'am, as fast as we can go.
ya as fast as we can
[_Reads._] _Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France._
’Tis bitter.
[Reading] Until I have no wife, I have nothing in France. This is bitter.
[Reading] I'll have nothing in France as long as I'm married. That's cruel—he's saying he wants nothing to do with me.
until i have no wife i have nothing so bitter
Find you that there?
Did you find that written there?
You find that in the letter?
u find that in there?
Ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
The moment the Countess says 'I do wash his name out of my blood, and thou art all my child' is quietly radical. Mothers in Shakespeare — Volumnia in Coriolanus, Lady Capulet in Romeo and Juliet, Gertrude in Hamlet — are rarely as clearly on the right side as the Countess of Rossillon. She doesn't hesitate, doesn't offer excuses for Bertram, doesn't try to balance maternal love with moral judgment. She judges him, and her judgment is simple: he is wrong, Helena is right, and the bond of motherhood does not exempt a child from justice. This moral clarity makes the Countess one of the most unusual characters in the play — and it throws Bertram's behavior into sharper relief. He is lucky to have a mother this clear-eyed. He's too young to know it yet.
’Tis but the boldness of his hand haply, which his heart was not
consenting to.
It's perhaps just the boldness of his hand - his heart might not have agreed with what his hand wrote.
Maybe it's just his hand being rash - his heart probably didn't mean it.
maybe his hand was just bold his heart prob disagreed
Nothing in France until he have no wife!
There’s nothing here that is too good for him
But only she, and she deserves a lord
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?
Nothing in France until he has no wife! There is nothing here that is too good for him Except only her, and she deserves a lord That twenty such rude boys might serve, And call her mistress every hour. Who was with him?
Nothing for him in France without a wife! There is nothing here good enough for him Except her, and honestly she deserves a lord That like twenty rude boys would serve, Calling her mistress all day. Who was with him?
nothing for him in france w/o a wife she deserves way better 20 boys would serve her who was w/ him?
A servant only, and a gentleman which I have sometime known.
Only a servant and a gentleman whom I have known at some time.
Just a servant and some guy I have met before.
just a servant & some guy i know
Parolles, was it not?
So it was Parolles?
It was Parolles, right?
parolles?
Ay, my good lady, he.
Yes, my good lady, it was he.
Yes, ma'am, that is the guy.
ya that's him
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
A very corrupt fellow, and full of wickedness. My son ruins his good nature Because of his influence.
A totally corrupt guy, full of evil. My son is letting himself get ruined by hanging around with him.
corrupt guy full of evil my son's getting ruined by him
Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much,
Which holds him much to have.
Indeed, good lady, The fellow has far too much of that, Which he clings to.
That is right, ma'am, The guy has way too much of those bad traits, and he will not let go of them.
ya he's got too much of those bad traits and he's stuck w/ them
Y’are welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses: more I’ll entreat you
Written to bear along.
You are welcome, gentlemen. I will ask you, when you see my son, To tell him that his sword can never win The honor that he loses. And I will ask you more To carry written words with you.
You are welcome, gentlemen. When you see my son, please tell him That his sword will never get back The honor he is throwing away. I will also give you A letter to take to him.
when u see him tell him his sword can't get back the honor he's losing i'll give u a letter for him
We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
We serve you, madam, In that matter and in all your most important affairs.
We are at your service, ma'am, for that and anything else important.
we serve u in that & all ur important stuff
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near?
Not so much, but let us exchange courtesies. Will you come closer?
Well, let us just be nice to each other. Will you come closer?
just be nice come closer?
“Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.”
Nothing in France until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rossillon, none in France;
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is’t I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? And is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air,
That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff that do hold him to’t;
And though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected. Better ’twere
I met the ravin lion when he roar’d
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rossillon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all. I will be gone;
My being here it is that holds thee hence.
Shall I stay here to do’t? No, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic’d all. I will be gone,
That pitiful rumour may report my flight
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day;
For with the dark, poor thief, I’ll steal away.
"Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France." Nothing in France until he has no wife! You will have none, Rossillon, none in France; Then you have everything again. Poor lord, is it I That chase you from your country and expose Those tender limbs of yours to the outcome Of the merciless war? And is it I That drive you from the playful court, where you Were shot at with beautiful eyes, to be the target Of smoky muskets? Oh you leaden bullets, That travel upon the violent speed of fire, Fly with false aim; move through the still-watching air, That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. Whoever shoots at him, I put him there; Whoever charges at his forward chest, I am the coward that holds him to it; And though I do not kill him, I am the cause His death came about. Better it would be I met the raging lion when he roared With sharp need of hunger; better it would be That all the miseries which nature owns Were mine at once. No; come you home, Rossillon, Where honor but from danger wins a wound, As often it loses everything. I will be gone; My being here is what holds you away. Shall I stay here to do it? No, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house, And angels filled all the work. I will be gone, That pitiful rumor may carry word of my flight To comfort your ear. Come, night; end, day; For with the dark, poor thief, I will steal away.
"Nothing in France until he has no wife." Nothing in France while he is married! You will have nothing, Rossillon, nothing in France; Then you will get it all back. Poor guy, is this my fault? Did I chase you out of your country and send Your poor body off to a brutal war? Did I drive you away from the court where you Had beautiful women interested in you, to go get Shot at by guns? Oh bullets, Racing through fire, Aim wrong; move through the air That sings with damage; do not hit my lord. If anyone shoots him, I am the one who put him there; If anyone attacks him, I am the coward holding him in place; And even if I do not kill him myself, I caused His death. I would rather Meet a starving lion; Better that I suffered Every misery at once. No; come home, Rossillon, Where getting honor means getting wounded, And you usually lose everything. I am leaving; Me being here keeps you away. Should I stay here? No, no, even if This place was paradise itself, And angels ran everything. I am leaving, So sad rumors about my escape Will make you feel better. Come, night; end, day; In the dark, like a thief, I will disappear.
nothing in france till he has no wife i'm the one who sent him to war i drove him away from court to get shot at if anyone hurts him i put him there i caused it. i'd rather die i'm the reason he's suffering i gotta leave. me being here keeps him away night come make me disappear
The Reckoning
The scene where everything falls apart and Helena decides to sacrifice herself for Bertram's safety. The letter from Bertram is brutal — 'I have wedded her, not bedded her, and sworn to make the not eternal' — and the conditions he sets for recognizing the marriage are designed to be impossible. Helena reads them, then does something radical: she concludes that her presence is the reason Bertram is in danger, and she will remove herself from the world. Her final soliloquy, a prayer for his protection in war, is one of the most selfless speeches in Shakespeare. The audience is left with the question: is this beautiful or is this unbearable?
If this happened today…
A young woman gets home from the courthouse where her marriage was registered and finds a letter on the doormat: 'I've moved out. I've gone overseas. If you can somehow get my grandmother's ring off my finger — which you never will — and prove you're pregnant with my child — which you can't be, since I've never touched you — then you can call yourself my wife. Until then, stay out of my life.' Her new mother-in-law reads the letter over her shoulder. Then she reads another letter that says: 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing here.' The young woman texts her friend: 'He's in a war zone because of me. I have to leave.'