rly importunate with Diana
to admit him to the visit he so much desired that night, because he was
going to leave Florence early the next morning.
Though it grieved Helena to hear of Bertram's love for the widow's
daughter, yet from this story the ardent mind of Helena conceived a
project (nothing discouraged at the ill success of her former one) to
recover her truant lord. She disclosed to the widow that she was Helena,
the deserted wife of Bertram, and requested that her kind hostess and
her daughter would suffer this visit from Bertram to take place, and
allow her to pass herself upon Bertram for Diana; telling them, her
chief motive for desiring to have this secret meeting with her husband,
was to get a ring from him, which he had said, if ever she was in
possession of he would acknowledge her as his wife.
The widow and her daughter promised to assist her in this affair, partly
moved by pity for this unhappy forsaken wife, and partly won over to her
interest by the promises of reward which Helena made them, giving them a
purse of money in earnest of her future favour. In the course of that
day Helena caused information to be sent to Bertram that she was dead;
hoping that when he thought himself free to make a second choice by the
news of her death, he would offer marriage to her in her feigned
character of Diana. And if she could obtain the ring and this promise
too, she doubted not she should make some future good come of it.
In the evening, after it was dark, Bertram was admitted into Diana's
chamber, and Helena was there ready to receive him. The flattering
compliments and love discourse he addressed to Helena were precious
sounds to her, though she knew they were meant for Diana; and Bertram
was so well pleased with her, that he made her a solemn promise to be
her husband, and to love her for ever; which she hoped would be
prophetic of a real affection, when he should know it was his own wife,
the despised Helena, whose conversation had so delighted him.
Bertram never knew how sensible a lady Helena was, else perhaps he would
not have been so regardless of her; and seeing her every day, he had
entirely overlooked her beauty; a face we are accustomed to see
constantly, losing the effect which is caused by the first sight either
of beauty or of plainness; and of her understanding it was impossible he
should judge, because she felt such reverence, mixed with her love for
him, that she was always silent in hi
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