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*Rated T for Teen

All's Well That Ends Well

Act II, Scene III – Paris – The King's Palace

Bertram/Seto, Lafeu/Marik, and Parolles/Duke entered the stage in amazement, stunned that Helena/Joey had cured the King/Yami.

"They say that miracles are in the past and that rational people try to make things that are supernatural more modern and familiar. Perhaps we should present ourselves to the unknown with fear," said Lafeu/Marik, thinking of the cure Helena/Joey had provided the King/Yami.

"Why? It's the rarest argument of wonder that has disappeared in our times," responded Parolles/Duke.

"So it is," replied Bertram/Seto seriously.

Lafeu/Marik continued speaking his thoughts aloud. "To be relinquished of the artists-"

"I said that," interrupted Parolles/Duke.

Lafeu/Marik glared at him. "Both of Galen and Paracesus."

"I said that, too."

"Of all the educated and valid fellows-"

"And yes! I said that as well!" continued Parolles/Duke irritatingly.

Lafeu/Marik shot him another glare. "That gave our good King incurable and-"

"Oh, look. I think I said that, too."

"Not to be helped-"

"Wait! Let me guess! You're going to say 'As it were, a man assured of an-'"

"-an uncertain life and positive death," finished Lafeu/Marik hastily.

Parolles/Duke smirked at him. "I have said all of that before."

"Now, I can honestly say that it is newness to the world," said Lafeu/Marik.

"Indeed, it is. Besides, if you'll have it in showing, you'll read it in…what do you call it?" continued Parolles/Duke.

"A showing of blissful effect in an everyday actor?" Lafeu/Marik offered.

"That's it. I do believe I would have said the same."

Lafeu/Marik rolled his eyes as if praying to something that he would just shut up. "Of course, you would," he replied sarcastically. "Before me, I speak in respect-"

"No. It's strange. It's very strange that Helena would be assisted by-"

"-the very hand of heaven?" Lafeu/Marik offered again.

Parolles/Duke nodded. "So I say."

"In a most weak-" Lafeu/Marik cut himself off because he just knew that he was going to be interrupted again. When Parolles/Duke said nothing, he continued. "-and feeble minister, great power, great transcendence which should, in fact, give us a further use to be made than alone in the recovery of our good King, as to be-" he paused again, waiting for Parolles/Duke to cut in. Again he said nothing. Maybe he wasn't going to say he'd say the same thing again. "-generally thankful."

"My thoughts exactly. Although, I would have said it better myself," Parolles/Duke smirked. Before Lafeu/Marik could pounce on him in frustration, Parolles/Duke announced, "Look! The King is here!"

The three of them turned to see the King/Yami enter with Helena/Joey and some attendants.

"I'd like a maid like that," Lafeu/Marik commented, eyeing Helena/Joey up and down appreciatively.

"Isn't that Helena?" exclaimed Parolles/Duke.

"Oh, my God! I think it is!" Lafeu/Marik replied, trying to wash his mind from the vulgar thoughts he'd just had.

The King/Yami looked to one of his attendants and ordered, "Go and fetch all the lords of the court. Helena, my dear preserver, will stay by my side. Since she has cured me, this dear maid will now claim her prize." The attendant scrambled away and brought forth a few more lords from the court.

"Dear Helena, look around you. These are all the noble bachelors of the court. Choose who you want to be your husband and it will be so. I have the power to give you what you wish. None will dare defy me," continued the King/Yami.

"They all seem so fair and virtuous, my King. But I may only pick one," said Helena/Joey.

"If only I were younger," mumbled Lafeu/Marik regrettably.

"Scrutinize them well. All of them have had a noble father," stated the King/Yami.

Helena/Joey looked them all over approvingly. "Gentlemen, heaven worked through me in order to restore our good King to health."

"We understand, my lady. And we thank heaven for you," all the lords replied.

"I am but a simple maid," Helena/Joey began hesitantly. "My King, I fear that my love will be refused. I don't know if I can do this."

"Make your choice," the King/Yami said encouragingly. "For whoever shuns your love, shuns all his love in me," he warned the noble bachelors.

Helena/Joey approached the First Lord. "Will you take me as your bride?"

"No, my good lady."

"Fine," Helena/Joey replied disappointedly.

"I wish I were one of her choices," grumbled Lafeu/Marik.

Helena/Joey moved onto the Second Lord. "Will you take me as your bride? I'll give you all the love I have to offer."

"I am sorry. No."

"As you wish."

Lafeu/Marik stood there in shock. "Why are they all refusing her?" he exclaimed. "If they were my sons, I'd beat the shit out of them…or send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of them!"

Helena/Joey approached the Third Lord. "Will you take me as your bride? I will always be faithful to you."

"I cannot."

"I see."

Lafeu/Marik started to get pissed by this point. "These damn young men have hearts of ice!" he growled. "None of them want her. Bastards! All of them!"

Helena/Joey moved onto the Fourth Lord. "Will you take me as your bride? Although, I do not think I wish to have you. You are too young, too happy, and too good to have a child by me."

"I don't think so," the Fourth Lord replied drunkenly.

"These young men are all fucking assholes," Lafeu/Marik muttered, covering his face in his hand in embarrassment for them.

Helena/Joey finally approached Bertram/Seto and looked on him adoringly. "I dare not say I take you. But I do offer you myself and my service, while I live, into your guiding power. This is the man I choose. Bertram."

"Why, then, young Bertram, take her. Helena is now your wife," declared the King/Yami.

Bertram/Seto looked at him in utter shock. "My wife?" he screeched. "I beg you to reconsider!"

"Bertram. Don't you know what she has done for me?" inquired the King/Yami authoritatively.

"Yes, my King. But why do I have to marry this…lowly mutt?" he spat.

"You do know that she is the one who raised me from my sickly bed, correct?"

"I am aware of that, my King, but I should be allowed to choose my own wife! She is nothing but a poor physician's daughter! She cannot be my wife! Marrying that mongrel will degrade my noble birth!" Bertram/Seto roared angrily.

The King/Yami glared forebodingly at Bertram/Seto. "You dare defy me with this arrogance?" he reprimanded. "I have the power to elevate Helena's status. But I find it quite astounding that social differences are so important to you, young Bertram. Human blood is quite the same from one class to another. There is no difference in blood between the nobles and the peasants, or any human being. Blood is the same color; it's all the same. You should not compare social status, but actions. Helena may have a lowly status, but she is dignified by her virtuous deeds. I urge you to accept Helena as your bride."

"I cannot love that worthless mutt. And I will not try to do so, either," Bertram/Seto replied adamantly.

"You wrong yourself if you should strive to choose," said the King/Yami.

"All that matters is that you are in good health, my King. I'm glad for that. Let the rest go," said Helena/Joey softly. But the King/Yami wasn't ready to give in just yet.

The King/Yami focused his attention on Bertram/Seto once more, deciding to execute his power over him. "This is your last warning. Take Helena as your bride."

"I will never take her," Bertram/Seto growled.

"If you refuse to accept Helena as your bride," said the King/Yami, "then I will disown you and revoke you of your title."

Bertram/Seto, fearful of such a public dishonor, nodded his head in agreement to taking Helena as his bride.

The King/Yami smiled. "Take Helena by the hand and tell her she is yours."

Bertam/Seto took Helena's/Joey's hand and looked as if he was disgusted. "I…take her hand," he said reluctantly.

"Good fortune! You are in favor of the King and I smile upon this holy union. As you love her, your love to me reigns true," announced the King/Yami, blessing their union.

Everyone stepped off to the side, leaving Bertram/Seto and Helena/Joey standing gloriously in the center of the stage. Bertram/Seto took Helena's/Joey's hands in his and everyone left the stage save Lafeu/Marik and Parolles/Duke.

Lafeu/Marik approached Parolles/Duke, saying, "Might I have a word with you?"

"It would be my pleasure, sir," Parolles/Duke replied.

"Bertram, your lord and master, did well to make his recantation."

"Recantation? My lord? My master?" Parolles/Duke exclaimed.

"But of course. Do you not understand the language I speak? I only mean that it was good of your master to finally accept the dear Helena as his bride. Although, God should be your rightful master, but I do believe the devil is instead."

"You have a most harsh language," Parolles/Duke growled.

"Are you…a companion to the Count of Rousillon? Bertram?" Lafeu/Marik asked conceitedly.

"To any count…to all counts, to what is man."

"To what is count's man? Count's master is of another style. Oh, if I were younger, I would beat you senseless."

Parolles/Duke laughed degradingly at him. "You are far too old, sir. Let it satisfy you. You are too old."

"I did think that you were a pretty wise individual. You did make an acceptable account of your travels. But your scarf dissuades me of your true nature. You are good for nothing, except taking up. Even then you seem hardly worth it," replied Lafeu/Marik maliciously, throwing Parolles'/Duke's scarf in his face.

"Have you not the privilege of the distant past upon you-"

"Don't get angry unless you want to quicken your trial, which if, the Lord have mercy on you for a hen! You are a coward and a liar! So, my little pauper, I hope you fare well. I can see through your façade. Give me your hand."

"My lord, you give me much disgrace."

"Yes, with all my heart. You are definitely worthy of it."

"I have not deserved it, my lord!" Parolles/Duke snapped.

"Bah! I have no more words to waste on your pitiful self," Lafeu/Marik said, growing impatient. He stormed off the stage, Parolles/Duke smirking triumphantly.

"Good. This is very good. Let's hope it stays concealed awhile," Parolles/Duke mumbled. He jumped when he noticed Bertram/Seto come back onstage.

"I am undone…and forfeited to cares forever!" Bertram/Seto roared angrily.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" asked Parolles/Duke earnestly.

"Although I have married that ghastly mutt, I will not bed her! Consummating the marriage be damned!"

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Oh, my Parolles. They have married me. I'll just go to war so that I never have to bed her," Bertram/Seto said, sounding pleased with himself.

"That's a fine idea, sweetheart. It is unmanly to stay behind in the arms of your wife. You should be proving your valor on the battlefield," Parolles/Duke said encouragingly.

"Hm. I shall. I will send Helena to my house with a letter to my mother saying how I detest my forced bride. Then I shall sneak off to war without informing the King," Bertram/Seto replied.

"That is a wonderful idea. You should do it! The King has wronged you greatly by forcing you to marry Helena," supported Parolles/Duke.

Bertram/Seto nodded. "Come with me to my room where you can advise me. I'll send that mongrel to my mother tomorrow. That should be soon enough."

"Yes. That should be soon enough," Parolles/Duke repeated, taking Bertram/Seto by the arm as he guided him off the stage.

End Scene