GRISELDA 125 



an angel comforting me, teaching me to forget all my own false 

 life. Oh, speak ! speak ! If you leave me time to think about 

 myself, I must be gone at once. 



Qris. I cannot readily find words my suffering grew from 

 that ; yet, if you will be calm and gentle, you shall hear the 

 story of my life, for I love you, child. 



Filo. Even your touch soothes me. 



Gris. I never knew my mother ; my father was wealthy for 

 a peasant, and I grew up strong and well favoured. One day I 

 was gathering fodder, when a bear ran from the wood into the 

 little clearing where I was. Seeing that I could not run so fast 

 as he, I sat and waited. The great beast stopped short, gazed 

 in my face, sniffed round me like a dog, and then went slowly 

 from me. He had not gone ten paces when a young forester 

 sprang to my side, and the bear turned upon us. The young 

 man took two steps forward, waited till the bear rose, and with 

 one spear-stroke slew the wild thing, who died in pain. I cried, 

 4 You should have spared him as he spared me ; ' but the forester 

 laughed merrily, and said, ' You did well, and you speak well, 

 as a woman ; but men and wild beasts do not spare each other, 

 and I cannot think they should.' We talked long. I have 

 never heard or seen a man who looked or spoke like that young 

 forester. 



Filo. Was it the Marquis ? 



Gris. Truly, but I thought him a forester. We met often, 

 and one evening in the greenwood he asked me if I loved him. 

 Then I gave him all my heart, and we sat for a while happy ; 

 but I could not make him feel my love. He thought me cold. 

 He longed for more than I could give or promise. Men's love 

 is not like ours. He went in anger, saying I should never see 

 him more. Then first I knew grief. 



Filo. I would that he had kept his word. 



Gris. Many days went by in silence ; then in full noon, 

 amid the summer hay, he stood beside me, habited like himself, 

 a prince. ' Grisyld,' he said, f we have been sad, but we shall 

 be so no more. I am the Marquis of Saluce, master of the 

 land and of its people. You alone of women have my love ; you 

 are worthy of it, and you love me alone of men. I know it 

 well. I think myself no fool, and yet we have been sad ; but it 



