“He repented,” said Emma; “and does not a penitent cease to be a monster?”
“Oh, I never, never would have forgiven him, penitent or not penitent; I would not have forgiven him such sins.”
“I would not have put it into his power to commit them,” said Emma.
“I confess the story never touched me in the least,” cried our heroine.
“Perhaps for the same reason that Petrarch’s friend said that he read it unmoved,” replied Mrs. Granby: “because he could not believe that such a woman as Griselda ever existed.”
“No, no, not for that reason: I believe many such poor, meek, mean-spirited creatures exist.”
Emma was at length wakened to the perception of her friend’s envy and jealousy; but—
“She mild forgave the failing of her sex.”
“I cannot admire the original Griselda, or any of her imitators,” continued our heroine.
“There is no great danger of her finding imitators in these days,” said Mr. Granby. “Had Chaucer lived in our enlightened times, he would doubtless have drawn a very different character.”