he pointed to a tiny, odd-looking key that was attached to the ring. Showing this key to his wife, Bluebeard explained that it opened the door to a small room at the end of the corridor on the very bottom floor of the castle. Without offering further explanation, Bluebeard rigorously forbade his wife to use the key and enter the room, warning her that she would suffer greatly if she disobeyed him. Though she made one attempt after another to gain a reason for this injunction, none was forthcoming. Bluebeard’s wife stared at the odd little key as her husband bade her a tender farewell.
Now you may think that Bluebeard’s wife was eager to send for her friends and throw a great party but, in fact, as she stood at the window and watched her husband’s coach ride out of sight, she was overcome with curiosity to know what was in the little room at the end of the corridor on the bottom floor of the castle. Indeed, the poor lady could think of nothing else, so that she was utterly incapable of finding any pleasure in the many luxuries that lay before her.
Clutching the little key to the forbidden room, she wandered up and down the long, winding hallways of Bluebeard’s castle, brooding over the warning issued by her husband. At length, she found herself standing at the very doorway of the room she had been banned from entering. “I must have a glimpse inside or I shall have no peace,” she reasoned.
Without pondering further over the matter, she carefully fit the tiny key into the keyhole and turned the latch. As soon as the latch was released, the door popped open, but the room was pitch-dark inside, as shutters were closed up tightly over the windows. She rummaged through her pockets in search of a match and, finding one, quickly lit it and held it out before her.
She took a step forward as her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, fell upon a large table. There were shackles attached to the table, evidently for the purpose of restraining someone. Her eyes widened.
In another part of the room she saw a heavy rope hanging from the ceiling. About halfway down on the rope there was a manacle, and directly below that the rope split into two parts, with each connecting to a shackle that was fastened to the floor. On a nearby wall there hung long leather strips of varied lengths and widths.
As she stared at these objects in horror, Bluebeard’s wife suddenly recalled the many rumors she had heard about her husband’s previous wives, all of which were presumed dead. Suddenly it occurred to her that he must have killed them in this very room, for, to her inexperienced eyes, the objects she saw there could serve no other purpose.
But there was no more time to deliberate over the matter for, at that very moment, the match she was holding burned down to her fingers and with a little shriek, the terrified lady dropped the match and the ring of keys onto the floor. Trembling violently, she felt around in the dark for the keys and, finding them at last, she rushed from the forbidden room, fled down the winding corridor, and slipped into the first open doorway she could find. She collapsed into a nearby chair.
Very slowly the horrified lady began to regain her composure. She assured herself that her husband could not know that she had entered the room—for she had touched nothing. Considering this, she glanced at the key ring and gasped. Was it her imagination, or had the little key to the forbidden room changed? Yes, it had turned bright red!
This discovery started her heart racing anew, and in desperation she took a section of her petticoat and rubbed the key vigorously, but no matter what she did the red would not come off the key. At length she perceived that it was a charmed key, and if her husband discovered it he would indeed find out that she had disobeyed him. But then she reasoned, “If I take the key off the ring perhaps Bluebeard will believe it has been lost.”
As she considered this, a dark shadow fell over her and she looked up to find no other than Bluebeard standing before her. She flung the keys behind her and desperately tried to appear happy to see him, but he could see by her face, which was paler than death, that she had entered the forbidden room.
Bluebeard did not accuse his wife immediately, however. Instead, he spoke to her very pleasantly, telling her how, just as he was nearing town, he had come upon a messenger riding in to tell him that the business had been concluded satisfactorily after all, so that he could forfeit his trip. All this he explained in a very leisurely manner, though what it was exactly that he said his poor wife could never have told you, so preoccupied was her traumatized mind.
But at last Bluebeard came to the point and asked his wife very politely for the ring of keys. As you might well imagine, that lady did everything she could think of to delay, but her husband would not be put off, and at length she handed him the keys.
Bluebeard examined the keys carefully and then said to his wife, “Why has the key which I forbade you to use turned red?”
At this his wife burst into tears and confessed all, begging her husband to forgive her. But Bluebeard grabbed her fiercely, dragging her along as he strode purposefully toward the small room at the end of the corridor, saying, “Now you will meet your fate in that room!”
The poor woman beseeched her husband for mercy with tears streaming down her lovely face, so that even the hardest of hearts would have softened, but Bluebeard turned his face away from her and, quickly unlocking the door, forced his struggling wife into the forbidden room just before stepping into it himself. Then he locked the door behind them.
Bluebeard’s wife was suddenly silent, as she stood in the dark room and waited. Without the slightest difficulty or fumbling, Bluebeard quickly lit a lantern and set it on a stand near the table with the shackles. Then he approached his wife.
She held her breath in absolute terror as Bluebeard lifted his hand to her face in a gentle caress before placing his hands lower, upon her neck, and carefully reaching under the lace collar of her dress. She shut her eyes tightly, thinking he would strangle her in the next moment. And remarkably, something within her was stirred to life by her husband’s touch. She loved him yet!
All at once there was a great tear and her dress came apart, falling away from her in strips. Next went her underclothes and, before her dazed eyes had time to become fully adjusted to the dim light, she found herself standing before her husband without a stitch of clothing on her quivering flesh. She felt fresh tears rushing to her eyes as she remembered how tenderly he had held her only hours before. That he could kill her thus (for that is what she believed he was about to do) left her heartbroken.
Bluebeard led his wife to the rope that she had wondered about only moments before. Very deftly he attached her wrists to the manacle at the center, adjusting it so that her arms were stretched high above her head. Next he fastened her feet to the shackles on the floor, which were set just far enough apart to make it awkward for her to stand. Too horrified to speak, she stood stretched apart, mute and trembling.
Having confined her thus, Bluebeard approached the wall where the various strips of leather hung. As she watched her husband thoughtfully examine them, it suddenly dawned on her what those leather strips were and how her husband would use them on her. With this comprehension came the awareness that her life was not in danger, but she was too alarmed by the unspecified horrors that were still imminent to feel relief over this. She began to struggle against her bindings as she watched him select a thick black whip.
Bluebeard turned back toward his wife, saying, “Because of my great love for you, I shall be merciful. You will receive only thirty lashes.”
After a second of shocked silence, Bluebeard’s wife began again, in earnest, to plead for mercy. This he ignored, continuing in the same calm, matter-of-fact tone, only slightly louder to supersede her cries. “You will count the lashes as I give them to you. If you miss a single count, we will start again at the beginning. Also, you must accept the lashes willingly, acknowledging that you deserve them. You may cry out, but you must not protest or I will begin the
