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212 |
PATIENT GRISSEL. |
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But now you must die for my unworthiness. bj " Come, messenger of death," quoth she, " Take my despised babes to thee,
And to their father my complaints express."
He took the children, and to his noble master
He brought them forth with speed ; 100
"Who secretly sent them unto a noble lady,
To be nurst up indeed. Then to fair Grissel with a heavy heart he goes,
"Where she sat mildly all alone ; A pleasant gesture and a lovely look she shows, i<«
As if grief she had never known. Quoth he, " My children now are slain; "What thinks fair Grissel of the same ?
Sweet Grissel, now declare thy mind to me." " Since you, my lord, are pleas'd with it, no
Poor Grissel thinks the action fit;
Both I and mine at your command will be."
" The nobles murmur, fair Grissel, at thine honour,
And I no joy can have Till thou be banisht from my court and presence, us
As they unjustly crave. Thou must be stript out of thy stately garments;
And as thou earnest to me, In homely gray, instead of silk and purest pall,
Now all thy cloathing must be. 120
My lady thou must be no more, Nor I thy lord, which grieves me sore; |
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