144 LITERATURE AND DRAMA 



your voice speak that word love a chill struck through me 

 such as falls upon a wretch entering his prison cell. What I 

 feared was your love. I fear that love now. Wolves, met in 

 winter, have scared me less. My lord, you know the truth. 



Marq. I had said that I would not ask for love. I have 

 learned to rate the passion I so cherished no higher than an old 

 antic fool past service. The discarded knave should not have 

 frighted you as you sat upon your throne. A crust to mumble 

 in some unfrequented nook about your palace would have made 

 him almost happy. 



Gris. You are angry. A woman cannot help her fear. 



Marq. No, lady, no ! I am not angry with the sun if he 

 should blister me. I will not quarrel with the rain although it 

 wets me. Sun and rain are good. I think you good. 



Gris. I thank you for your gentleness, my lord. 



Marq. You need have had no fear, Grisyld. I have no 

 quarrel with the truth. 



Gris. How base a thing fear is ! Day by day I have set this 

 hour before my eyes, night by night I have dreamt that I had 

 told all, and my wicked fear always showed me cruel phantoms 

 wearing your shape. I saw you kill me. I saw you die by 

 your own hand. I heard you curse me with such words as 

 blacken memory, and now the day has come, and in the light of 

 day I see no more phantoms. I see you. You stand before me 

 kind and gentle. I have been a fool. 



Marq. Neither fool nor coward, Grisyld. You have been a 

 woman, and we men hurt women much more than we know ; 

 but I will do justice, now I know the truth. Your place is 

 upon the throne, but mine is not beside you. Saluce is some- 

 what stale to me. I will go see the world. 



Gris. I rejoiced too soon. 



Marq. Teach our son how to govern. He will be an apter 

 pupil than your husband. One maxim take from me, Roland : 

 the law must be feared your mother is too tender-hearted 

 to rule men wisely. Speech is useless, Grisyld : you cannot 

 change my purpose, nor follow out what I see to be your own. 

 You must not leave Saluce. Your son needs you ; he has no 

 experience. Be comforted. This my act shows no despair, but 

 plain wisdom, simple justice. I deserve neither wife nor 



