defends himself by falsehood, and is dismissed to happiness.â 1 Of course there is something obnoxious in the snobbery with which Bertram first dismisses Helen on the grounds of her low status, but when he goes on to say that he is simply not in love with her, he reveals a kind of integrity. He bows to the Kingâs will and marries her, but since his heart does not belong to her he refuses to give her his body. If a woman were forced to marry in this way, we would rather admire her for withholding sexual favors from her husband.
THE NEW CODE OF THE SELF
Bertram represents modernity in that he acts according to an existential principle: he follows his own self, not some preexistent code of duty, service to his monarch, or obligation to the older generation. One word for this code is indeed integrity. Another is selfishness. It is the prerogative of the old, especially mothers, to know, to suffer, and still to forgive the selfishness of their young. Bertramâs mother, the widowed Countess of Rossillion, who treats the orphaned Helen like a daughter and is only too happy to accept her as a daughter-in-law, regardless of her lowly background, was described by George Bernard Shaw as âthe most beautiful old womanâs part ever writtenâ (though she could perfectly well be in her forties). Since female parts were written for young male actors, strong maternal roles such as this are exceptional in Shakespeare. The only analogous parts are the more overbearing figures of Queen Margaret in the
Henry VI
plays, Tamora in
Titus Andronicus
, and Volumnia in
Coriolanus
. The serenity of the Countess has meant that the principal reason for modern revivals of
Allâs Well
has been the opportunity to showcase actresses such as Edith Evans, Peggy Ashcroft, and Judi Dench in their later years.
One of the key debates in the play is that between nature and nurture. The Countess of Rossillion believes that her son is a fundamentally good boy who has fallen into bad company, as embodied by the worthless Parolles. Helen, meanwhile, has strong natural qualities (the âdispositions she inheritsâ) reinforced by a loving and responsible upbringing (the âeducationâ she has received first from her doctor father, then in the household of the Countess).
Parallel to the question of nature and nurture is that of divine providence and individual responsibility. Helen believes that âOur remedies oft in ourselves do lie, / Which we ascribe to heavenâ: like Bertram, she is a voice of modernity in her belief that individuals can carve their own destiny. She does so by means of disguise and bold solo travel: from Rossillion in southwest France to Paris, where she gains access to the King, then to Florence in the dress of a pilgrim en route to Compostela. Like Julia in
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
, Rosalind in
As You Like It
, and Viola in
Twelfth Night
, she uses her disguised self as an opportunity to talk about her true feelings. The part is the longest in the play and it gives an actor great opportunities for the portrayal of an isolated young womanâs self-exploration through both soliloquy and dialogue in lucid and serpentine verse, not to mention passages of prose banter and some piercing asides.
As Dr. Johnson dryly noted, the geography seems somewhat awry when Helen undertakes her pilgrimage: in going from France to Spain via Italy, she is âsomewhat out of the road.â Such details did not matter to Shakespeare. For him, the pilgrim motifâtaken over from the story in Boccaccio that was his source for the main plot of the playâhad symbolic importance in that it associated Helen with an older value structure of reverence and self-sacrifice even as she asserts her own will. Pilgrims are people who believe in miracles, so Helenâs adoption of the role allies her with the worldview voiced by the old courtier Lafew after she has cured the King: âThey say miracles are past,
Stephen Arseneault
Lenox Hills
Walter Dean Myers
Frances and Richard Lockridge
Andrea Leininger, Bruce Leininger
Brenda Pandos
Josie Walker
Jen Kirkman
Roxy Wilson
Frank Galgay