“This is thy daughter, whom thou hast supposed To be my wife--that other faithfully Shall be my heir, as I have long disposed; For they are both thy children, verily. I kept them at Bologna privily. Take them again, thou canst not say, as once, Thou hast lost either of thy little ones. “And folk, who otherwise have said of me, I warn them well that I have acted thus, Neither in malice nor in cruelty, Solely to prove thy patience marvellous, And not to slay my babes (God hinder us!) But to conceal them secretly apart Until I learned thy purpose and thy heart!” You may fancy you see Griselda at this moment, standing in her rags before the glittering company, and her brain dazed with wondering whether this were some new freak, or the truth that brought unheard-of joy. But nature had been taxed too far, and all her courage could not bear up against the shock. Whan sche this herd, aswone doun she fallith, in a swoon For pitous joy, and after her swownyng swooning Sche bothe hir yonge children to hir callith, And in hir armes, pitously wepyng, Embraseth hem, and tendrely kissyng, Ful lik a moder, with hir salte teres tears Sche bathide bothe hir visage and hir heres.[159] their hair When she heard this, all senseless down she falleth, For piteous joy--and half unconsciously Both her young children unto her she calleth, And in her arms, weeping so piteously, Embraceth them, with kisses tenderly, Full like a mother, and the tears she sheds Bathe the fair faces and the dear loved heads. Piteous it was to hear her humble voice, thanking Walter so fervently. “_Graunt mercy_, lord, God thank you,” cried she, “for saving me my children. Now I care not how soon I die, since your love has come back to me. O tendre, O dere, O yonge children myne,[160] Youre woful moder wende stedefastly believed That cruel houndes or som foul vermyne wild dogs Had eten yow: but God of his mercy, And your benigne fader tenderly Hath doon yow kepe. And in that same stounde preserved you, moment Al sodeinly sche swapped doun to grounde. sank And in hir swough so sadly holdith sche swoon, firmly Hir children tuo, whan sche gan hem tembrace, to embrace them That with gret sleight and gret difficulté skill The children from her arm they gonne arace. tear away O! many a teer on many a pitous face Doun ran of hem that stooden hir bisyde, down, stood, beside Unnethe aboute hir mighte thay abyde. hardly