Suspicious was the diffame of this man, Suspect his face, suspect his word also, Suspect the time in which he this began: Alas! her daughter, that she loved so, She weened he would have it slain right tho, But natheless she neither wept nor siked, Conforming her to what the marquis liked.
But at the last to speakë she began, And meekly she unto the sergeant pray’d, So as he was a worthy gentle man, That she might kiss her child, ere that it died: And in her barme this little child she laid, With full sad face, and gan the child to bless, And lulled it, and after gan it kiss.
And thus she said in her benignë voice: “Farewell, my child, I shall thee never see; But since I have thee marked with the cross, Of that father y-blessed may’st thou be That for us died upon a cross of tree: Thy soul, my little child, I him betake, For this night shalt thou dien for my sake.”
I trow that to a norice in this case It had been hard this ruthë for to see: Well might a mother then have cried, “Alas!” But natheless so sad steadfást was she, That she endured all adversity, And to the sergeant meekëly she said, “Have here again your little youngë maid.
“Go now,” quoth she, “and do my lord’s behest. And one thing would I pray you of your grace, But if my lord forbade you at the least, Bury this little body in some place, That neither beasts nor birdës it arace.” But he no word would to that purpose say, But took the child and went upon his way.
The sergeant came unto his lord again, And of Griselda’s words and of her cheer He told him point for point, in short and plain, And him presented with his daughter dear. Somewhat this lord had ruth in his mannére, But natheless his purpose held he still, As lordës do, when they will have their will;
And bade this sergeant that he privily Shouldë the child full softly wind and wrap, With allë circumstances tenderly, And carry it in a coffer, or in