A faint sparkle of human spirit comes into her entreaty—“Ye could not do so dishonest (shameful) a thing:”—
Remembre yow, myn oughne lord so deere,own
I was your wyf, though I unworthy were.
Wherfor, in guerdoun of my maydenhede,girlhood
Which that I brought, and not agayn I bere,carry away
As vouchethsauf as yeve me to my meedevouchsafe, reward
But such a smok as I was wont to were.smock, wear
“Remember yet, my lord and husband dear,
I was your wife, though I unworthy were!
“Thus, in requital of the youth I brought,
But never can take back, nor have it more,
Give me, I pray, a garment of such sort
As in those days of poverty I wore.”
Walter accepts this humble claim; mark the calm dignity with which she refrains from giving way before her ‘folk.’
The smok,[154] quod he, that thou hast on thy bak,smock
Let it be stille, and ber it forth with the.
But wel unnethes thilke word he spak,scarcely, this
But went his way for routhe and for pité.compassion
Byforn the folk hirselven strippith sche,herself
And in hir smok, with heed and foot al bare,head and feet
Toward hir fader house forth is she fare.went
The folk hir folwen wepyng in hir weye,follow her
And fortune ay thay cursen as thay goon;curse
But she fro wepyng kept hir eyen dreye,dry
Ne in this tyme word ne spak sche noon.none
Hir fader, that this tyding herd anoon,
Cursede the day and tyme that nature
Schoop him to ben a lyves creäture.formed, living
For oute of doute this olde pore man
Was ever in suspect of hir mariage;suspicion
For ever he deemede, sith that it bigan,believed
That whan the lord fulfilled had his corrage,impulse
Him wolde thinke that it were disparagedisparagement
To his estate, so lowe for to lighte,
And voyden hire as sone as ever he mighte.put her away
Agayns his doughter hastily goth hegoeth
(For he by noyse of folk knew hir comyng),
And with hir olde cote, as it might be,coat
He covered hir, ful sorwfully wepynge,sorrowfully
But on hir body might he it nought bringe,
For rude was the cloth, and mor of age,coarse, more
By dayes fele than at hir mariage.many (viel)
Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space
Dwellith this flour of wifly pacience,flower
That neyther by hir wordes, ne by hir face,
Byforn the folk nor eek in her absence,also, their
Ne schewed sche that hir was doon offence;showed, done
Ne of hir highe astaat no remembrauncenor, estate
Ne hadde she, as by hir countenaunce.
“The shift,” he said, “thou hast upon thy back,
Let it remain, and bear it forth with thee.”
But scarcely that hard word for pain he spake,
And went his way for sorrow and pity.
Before the household all her robes stript she;
And in her shift, barefoot and bare of head,
Toward her father’s house forth is she sped.
The household follow, tears in every eye,
Bewailing her ill-fortune as they go;
But she from weeping kept her own eyes dry,
Nor spake a word to those who murmur’d so.
Her father heard the news awhile ago,
And sore laments the day that he was born,
To be a thing so helpless and forlorn.
For ever without doubt the poor old man
Distrusted heartily her altered rank;
Believing inly since it first began,
That when my lord had wearied of his prank,
He would conceive it far beneath his rank
To have a low-born wife, however good,
And rid himself of her whene’er he could.
Unto his daughter hastily he goes,
(For by the noise of crowds he knew her nigh),
And her old garb about her form he throws,
And covers her, with tears and many a sigh,
But could not draw it round her properly,
For coarse and shrunk the cloth was—worse for age
By many days, than at her marriage.
Thus with her father for a certain space
Did dwell this flower of wifely patience;
And neither by her speech nor by her face,
Before the folk, nor e’en in their absènce,
Seem’d she to feel that she endured offence.
As far as any living soul could see
She had of her past state no memory.
And after all it was scarce any wonder. For in her days of wealth her spirit had always been humble and meek. No dainty fare, no foolish pomp or luxury, no semblance of splendid rank, had she allowed herself; but, ever wise and humble and firm, when reverses came she was ready to bear them.
Men speak of Job’s patience; but, though some praise women little enough, no man can be as patient as a woman can—no man be faithful as a woman can.
Part VI.
At last the Earl of Panik arrived, whose fame had been spreading among great and small. The people had all found out that he was bringing them a new marchioness, in such pomp and state, that never before had a like splendour been seen throughout West Lombardy.
The marquis, who had arranged all these things, sent for this poor innocent Griselda; and she came with humble mind and joyful face, and no proud notions in her heart, and knelt before him and asked his will.
“Griselda,” he said, “my will is that the maiden whom I am to marry be received here as royally as it is possible in my house to be, and that everybody, according to his degree, shall be made thoroughly welcome and happy. I have no woman able to arrange my rooms fully to my liking, and therefore I want you to take everything in hand. You know of old my ways and my tastes; therefore, though your dress is ragged and you look very bad, you must do your duties to the very best of your power.”