THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRAR

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

GRISELDA.

(From the Canterbury Tales.)

THERE is right at the west side of Itaille,
Down at the root of Vesulus the cold,

A lusty plain abundant of vitaille,

There many a town and tow'r thou may'st behold,
That founded were in time of fathers old,

And many another délitable sight,
And Saluces this noble country hight.

A marquis whilom lord was of that land,
As were his worthy elders him before;
And obeisant, aye ready to his hand,
Were all his lieges bothé lesse and more:

Thus in delight he liveth, and hath done yore,
Belov'd and dread, through favour of Fortúne,
Both of his lordés and of his commúne.

Therewith he was, to speaken of lin'age,
The gentilest yborn of Lumbardy,

A fairé person, and strong, and young of age,
And full of honour and of courtesy ;
Discreet enough, his country for to gie,
Save in some thingés that he was to blame,
And Walter was this youngé lordés name.

I blame him thus, that he consider'd naught
In timé coming what might him betide,
But on his lust presént was all his thought,
And for to hawk and hunt on every side;
Well nigh all other carés let he slide;
And eke he n'old (and that was worst of all)
Wedden no wife for aught that might befall.

Only that point his people bare so sore,
That flockmel on a day to him they went,
And one of them, that wisest was of lore,
Or ellés that the lord would best assent
That he should tell him what the people meant,
Or ellés could he well show such mattére)
He to the marquis said as ye shall hear.

"For certés, Lord, so well us liketh you

And all your work, and e'er have done, that we Ne coulden not ourself devisen how

We mighten live in more felicity,

Save one thing, Lord, if it your willé be
That for to be a wedded man you lest,

Then were your people in sovereign heartés rest.

Their mecké prayér and their piteous cheer
Madé the marquis for to have pity.
"Ye will," quod he, "mine owen people dear,
To that I ne'er ere thought, constrainen me: