Part 34

“Certes, Griseld’, I had enough pleasance To have you to my wife, for your goodness, And for your truth, and for your obeisance, Not for your lineage, nor for your richess; But now know I, in very soothfastness, That in great lordship, if I well advise, There is great servitude in sundry wise.

“I may not do as every ploughman may: My people me constraineth for to take Another wife, and cryeth day by day; And eke the Pope, rancour for to slake, Consenteth it, that dare I undertake: And truely, thus much I will you say, My newe wife is coming by the way.

“Be strong of heart, and *void anon* her place; *immediately vacate* And thilke* dower that ye brought to me, *that Take it again, I grant it of my grace. Returne to your father’s house,” quoth he; “No man may always have prosperity; With even heart I rede* you to endure *counsel The stroke of fortune or of aventure.”

And she again answer’d in patience: “My Lord,” quoth she, “I know, and knew alway, How that betwixte your magnificence And my povert’ no wight nor can nor may Make comparison, it *is no nay;* *cannot be denied* I held me never digne* in no mannere *worthy To be your wife, nor yet your chamberere.* *chamber-maid

“And in this house, where ye me lady made, (The highe God take I for my witness, And all so wisly* he my soule glade),** *surely **gladdened I never held me lady nor mistress, But humble servant to your worthiness, And ever shall, while that my life may dure, Aboven every worldly creature.

“That ye so long, of your benignity, Have holden me in honour and nobley,* *nobility Where as I was not worthy for to be, That thank I God and you, to whom I pray Foryield* it you; there is no more to say: *reward Unto my father gladly will I wend,* *go And with him dwell, unto my lifes end,

“Where I was foster’d as a child full small, Till I be dead my life there will I lead, A widow clean in body, heart, and all. For since I gave to you my maidenhead, And am your true wife, it is no dread,* *doubt God shielde* such a lordes wife to take *forbid Another man to husband or to make.* *mate

“And of your newe wife, God of his grace So grant you weal and all prosperity: For I will gladly yield to her my place, In which that I was blissful wont to be. For since it liketh you, my Lord,” quoth she, “That whilom weren all mine hearte’s rest, That I shall go, I will go when you lest.

“But whereas ye me proffer such dowaire As I first brought, it is well in my mind, It was my wretched clothes, nothing fair, The which to me were hard now for to find. O goode God! how gentle and how kind Ye seemed by your speech and your visage, The day that maked was our marriage!

“But sooth is said, — algate* I find it true, *at all events For in effect it proved is on me, — Love is not old as when that it is new. But certes, Lord, for no adversity, To dien in this case, it shall not be That e’er in word or work I shall repent That I you gave mine heart in whole intent.

“My Lord, ye know that in my father’s place Ye did me strip out of my poore weed,* *raiment And richely ye clad me of your grace; To you brought I nought elles, out of dread, But faith, and nakedness, and maidenhead; And here again your clothing I restore, And eke your wedding ring for evermore.

“The remnant of your jewels ready be Within your chamber, I dare safely sayn: Naked out of my father’s house,” quoth she, “I came, and naked I must turn again. All your pleasance would I follow fain:* *cheerfully But yet I hope it be not your intent That smockless* I out of your palace went. *naked

“Ye could not do so dishonest* a thing, *dishonourable That thilke* womb, in which your children lay, *that Shoulde before the people, in my walking, Be seen all bare: and therefore I you pray, Let me not like a worm go by the way: Remember you, mine owen Lord so dear, I was your wife, though I unworthy were.

“Wherefore, in guerdon* of my maidenhead, *reward Which that I brought and not again I bear, As vouchesafe to give me to my meed* *reward But such a smock as I was wont to wear, That I therewith may wrie* the womb of her *cover That was your wife: and here I take my leave Of you, mine owen Lord, lest I you grieve.”

“The smock,” quoth he, “that thou hast on thy back, Let it be still, and bear it forth with thee.” But well unnethes* thilke word he spake, *with difficulty But went his way for ruth and for pity. Before the folk herselfe stripped she, And in her smock, with foot and head all bare, Toward her father’s house forth is she fare.* *gone

The folk her follow’d weeping on her way, And fortune aye they cursed as they gon:* *go But she from weeping kept her eyen drey,* *dry Nor in this time worde spake she none. Her father, that this tiding heard anon, Cursed the day and time, that nature Shope* him to be a living creature. *formed, ordained

For, out of doubt, this olde poore man Was ever in suspect of her marriage: For ever deem’d he, since it first began, That when the lord *fulfill’d had his corage,* *had gratified his whim* He woulde think it were a disparage* *disparagement To his estate, so low for to alight, And voide* her as soon as e’er he might. *dismiss

Against* his daughter hastily went he *to meet (For he by noise of folk knew her coming), And with her olde coat, as it might be, He cover’d her, full sorrowfully weeping: But on her body might he it not bring, For rude was the cloth, and more of age By dayes fele* than at her marriage. *many <11>

Thus with her father for a certain space Dwelled this flow’r of wifely patience, That neither by her words nor by her face, Before the folk nor eke in their absence, Ne shewed she that her was done offence, Nor of her high estate no remembrance Ne hadde she, *as by* her countenance. *to judge from*

No wonder is, for in her great estate Her ghost* was ever in plein** humility; *spirit **full No tender mouth, no hearte delicate, No pomp, and no semblant of royalty; But full of patient benignity, Discreet and prideless, aye honourable, And to her husband ever meek and stable.

Men speak of Job, and most for his humbless, As clerkes, when them list, can well indite, Namely* of men; but, as in soothfastness, *particularly Though clerkes praise women but a lite,* *little There can no man in humbless him acquite As women can, nor can be half so true As women be, *but it be fall of new.* *unless it has lately come to pass*

*Pars Sexta* *Sixth Part*

From Bologn’ is the earl of Panic’ come, Of which the fame up sprang to more and less; And to the people’s eares all and some Was know’n eke, that a newe marchioness He with him brought, in such pomp and richess That never was there seen with manne’s eye So noble array in all West Lombardy.

The marquis, which that shope* and knew all this, *arranged Ere that the earl was come, sent his message* *messenger For thilke poore sely* Griseldis; *innocent And she, with humble heart and glad visage, Nor with no swelling thought in her corage,* *mind Came at his hest,* and on her knees her set, *command And rev’rently and wisely she him gret.* *greeted

“Griseld’,” quoth he, “my will is utterly, This maiden, that shall wedded be to me, Received be to-morrow as royally As it possible is in my house to be; And eke that every wight in his degree Have *his estate* in sitting and service, *what befits his And in high pleasance, as I can devise. condition*

“I have no women sufficient, certain, The chambers to array in ordinance After my lust;* and therefore would I fain *pleasure That thine were all such manner governance: Thou knowest eke of old all my pleasance; Though thine array be bad, and ill besey,* *poor to look on *Do thou thy devoir at the leaste way.”* * do your duty in the quickest manner* “Not only, Lord, that I am glad,” quoth she, “To do your lust, but I desire also You for to serve and please in my degree, Withoute fainting, and shall evermo’: Nor ever for no weal, nor for no woe, Ne shall the ghost* within mine hearte stent** *spirit **cease To love you best with all my true intent.”

And with that word she gan the house to dight,* *arrange And tables for to set, and beds to make, And *pained her* to do all that she might, *she took pains* Praying the chambereres* for Godde’s sake *chamber-maids To hasten them, and faste sweep and shake, And she the most serviceable of all Hath ev’ry chamber arrayed, and his hall.

Aboute undern* gan the earl alight, *afternoon <5> That with him brought these noble children tway; For which the people ran to see the sight Of their array, so *richely besey;* *rich to behold* And then *at erst* amonges them they say, *for the first time* That Walter was no fool, though that him lest* *pleased To change his wife; for it was for the best.