Now, near the marquis’s palace, there was a village in which dwelt a poor
man--poorer than the poorest of his neighbours. His name was Janicula, and
he had a young daughter who was fair enough to see, called Griselda.
But, in beauty of mind, Griselda was the fairest maiden under the sun. She
had been brought up very humbly, and more often drank water than wine, and
she worked so hard that she was never idle.
But though this mayden tender were of age,
Yet in the brest of her virginité breast, girlhood
Ther was enclosed rype and sad corrage;[141] mature, serious
And in gret reverence and charité love
Hir olde pore fader fostered sche;
A fewe scheep spynnyng on the feld sche kepte, field
Sche nolde not ben ydel til sche slepte. would not be
And when sche hom-ward com, sche wolde brynge came, bring
Wortis or other herbis tymes ofte, worts
The which sche schred and seth for her lyvynge, chop, boil,
living
And made hir bed ful hard, and nothing softe.
And ay sche kept hir fadres lif on lofte ever, supported
With every obeissance and diligence,
That child may do to fadres reverence. father’s
But though this maiden was as yet so young,
Under her girlish innocence there lay
A brave and serious spirit, ever strong;
And with good heart she laboured day by day
To tend and help her father, poor and grey.
Some sheep while spinning in the fields she kept,
For never was she idle till she slept.
And she would often, as she homeward sped,
Bring with her herbs and cresses gathered there,
Which for a meal she fain would seethe and shred.
Hard was her bed and frugal was her fare,
Keeping her father with untiring care,
And all obedience, and all diligence
That child can give to filial reverence.
On this poor hard-working Griselda, the marquis Walter had often cast his
eyes when he happened to pass her while hunting. And when he looked at her
it was with no foolish thoughts, but with serious admiration for her
virtue. He had never seen any one so young who was so good, and he made up
his mind if ever he married anybody he would marry her.
So, after the people’s visit, according to his promise to them, Walter
began to prepare beautiful dresses and jewels, brooches and rings of
gold, and everything proper for a great lady. And the wedding-day arrived,
but no one had seen any bride, or could think where she was to come from!
At last all the feast was ready, all the palace beautifully adorned,
upstairs and downstairs--hall and chambers. The noble guests arrived who
were bidden to the wedding--lords and ladies richly arrayed--and still
there was no bride!
The marquis made them all follow him into the village, to the sound of
music.
Now, Griselda, who knew nothing of all this, went that morning to fetch
water from the well; and she heard say that this was to be the marquis’s
wedding-day.
So she hastened home, and thought to herself she would get through her
work as fast as she could, and try to see something of the sight.
“I will stand with the other girls at the door,” she said to herself
innocently, “and I shall see the new marchioness, if she passes by this
way to the castle.”
Just as she crossed the door, the marquis came up, and called her.
Griselda set down her water-cans beside the door in an ox’s stall,[142]
and, dropping on her knees,[143] waited for the great lord to speak.
The marquis said gravely, “Where is thy father, Griselda?” and Griselda
answered humbly, “He is all ready here,” and hurried in to fetch him.
Then the marquis took the poor man by the hand, saying, “Janicula, I shall
no longer hide the wish of my heart. If you will consent, I will take your
daughter for my wife before I leave this house. I know you love me, and
are my faithful liegeman. Tell me, then, whether you will have me for your
son-in-law.”
This sudden offer so astonished the poor man that he grew all red, and
abashed, and trembling. He could say nothing but--“My lord, it is not for
me to gainsay your lordship. Whatever my lord wishes.”
Yit wol I, quod this markys softely, yet
That in thy chambre, I and thou and sche
Have a collacioun, and wostow why? meeting, knowest
thou
For I wol aske if that it hir wille be
To be my wyf, and reule hir after me; according to
And al this schal be doon in thy presence, done
I wol nought speke out of thyn audience. hearing
“Yet,” said the marquis, softly, “fain would I
That in thy chamber I and thou and she
Confer together--dost thou wonder why?
For I would ask her whether she will be
My wife--and rule herself to pleasure me;
And in thy presence all things shall be said:
Behind thy back no contract shall be made.”
And while the three were talking in the chamber all the people came into
the house without,[144] and wondered among themselves how carefully and
kindly she kept her father. But poor Griselda, who had never seen such a
sight before, looked quite pale. She was not used to such grand
visitors.
[Illustration: GRISELDA’S MARRIAGE
‘This is ynough, Grisilde myn, quod he.’]
This is what the marquis said to her.
“Griselda, it pleases your father and me that I should marry you, and I
suppose you will not be unwilling.[145] But first I must ask you, since it
is to be done in such a hurry, will you say yes now, or will you think it
over? Are you ready to obey me in all things when you are my wife, whether
I am kind to you or not? and never to say no when I say yes--either by
word or by frowns? Swear that, and I will swear to marry you.”
Wondering at all this, and trembling with fear, Griselda answered--
“My lord, I am quite unworthy of the great honour you offer me; but
whatever my lord wishes I will consent to. And I will swear never, so far
as I know, to disobey you--not even if you wish to kill me, though I don’t
want to die.”
“That is enough, my Griselda,” said Walter, and he went gravely out at the
door, and showed her to the people. “This is my wife, who stands here,” he
said: “honour and love her, whoever loves me.”
Then, so that she might not enter his castle in her poor gown, he bade all
the gentlewomen robe her at once in beautiful clothes; and though these
smart ladies did not much like touching the old clothes she had on, still
they stript them all off her, and clad her all new and splendidly, from
head to foot.
Then they combed and dressed her hair, which was quite loose and
disarranged, and with their delicate fingers they placed a crown on her
head, and covered her with jewels, great and small. They hardly knew her,
so beautiful she looked when she was thus richly attired.
The marquis put a ring on her finger, which he had brought on purpose, and
set her on a snow-white horse; and she was conducted, with great
rejoicings, to the palace, where the day was spent in feasting and
merriment till the sun set.[146]
In short, heaven so favoured the new marchioness, that in a little time
you would never have guessed she was of so humble birth; she might have
been brought up in an emperor’s hall, and not in a hut with oxen. The
people who had known her from her childhood could hardly believe she was
Janicle’s daughter, she was so changed for the better.
Moreover, her virtue and gentle dignity made her beloved by everybody, so
that her fame was spread throughout all the country, and people even took
long journeys to come and look upon her.
Walter had not a fault to find with her. She made him happy by her
excellence and her wifely homeliness, just as she made the people happy by
her kindness and cleverness in redressing their wrongs.