GRISELDA 139 



Gris. Ah ! I see the scar ; child, I have kissed that wound 

 a thousand times. Walter, there, look where your sword 

 Ah ! (Falls on FILOMENE and devours her with kisses.) 



Marq. Yes, gentlemen, I tried one day whether the child, 

 having no experience of wounds, would yet fear steel. That 

 scar tells the answer. Our little Dora flung herself against the 

 blade. I had forgotten it. 



Tanc. Mother, I remember you ; I knew your voice. 



Oris. My son, my son, my Roland ! No more doubt, 

 Roland. Gone, gone doubt is gone. Doubt was a heavy 

 load ; it grew and grew, and weighed me down. The thing 

 lived : it had a voice a cuckoo voice always in my ear 

 doubt, doubt, doubt, doubt, unceasingly. Dead now. I am 

 free. You are no murderer, my lord. I knew that always ; you 

 heard me say I knew that you were not a murderer ; but no one 

 gave me any comfort ; no one said that what I knew to be the 

 truth was true. I might have been mad, you see ; but God 

 made my faith firm, and now I can thank God Ah me ! I am 

 tired. Forgive me, children ; I will love you. You are strong, 

 Roland ; help me to bear happiness, my son. 



Marq. Rest, Grisyld ; lean on Roland ; I have more news 

 yet none bad. Friends and counsellors, that divorce I showed 

 you was a forgery good parchment spoiled. This lady has 

 been queen all the while. I trust none of you remember words 

 spoken to her which a queen might not hear. Griselda, have 

 you followed me ? 



Gris. Not clearly, my lord ; but it is well with me. 



Marq. Gentlemen, in time past certain of our subjects 

 caballed against our queen, and denounced her son as base born. 

 For his safety I concealed him, even from his mother. That 

 danger is now past. He stands there, a worthy prince, while 

 his mother's fame is such that before long heralds will forge 

 pedigrees to prove kings her kinsmen. Once I crowned her ; 

 now I hold that she crowns me, for her glory outshines mine . 

 Say I well, my lords ? 



Courtiers. Most nobly. [Shouts. 



Marq. Griselda, take my hand ; let me lead you to your 

 throne. I felt less joy on the first day I brought you here, a 

 younger bride. Last night you spoke words I had almost 



