[515] Book ii. st. 182.
[516] Book iii. st. 163 and 170.
[517] Book iii. st 173. Boccaccio's Griselda has nothing to be compared to those degrees in feeling and tenderness. She laughs at the newly wedded ones, and ignores blushes as well as doubts ("Filostrato," iii. st. 29 ff.).
[518] Book iii. st. 188.
What me is wo
That day of us mot make desseveraunce!
(Book iii. st. 203, 204.)
[520] Book iv. st. 98 ff.
Yet preye I yow on yvel ye ne take,
That it is short which that I to yow wryte;
I dar not, ther I am, wel lettres make,
Ne never yet ne coude I wel endyte.
Eek greet effect men wryte in place lyte.
Thentente is al, and nought the lettres space
And fareth now wel, God have you in his grace.