{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_60373/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_60373","id":"gutenberg_60373","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60373","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Griselda (Legendary character)"],"text":"_Chap-Books\n                                  and\n                           Folk-Lore Tracts._\n\n                              _Edited by_\n\n                         _G. L. Gomme, F.S.A._\n\n                                 _and_\n\n                        _H. B. Wheatley, F.S.A._\n\n\n                            _First Series._\n\n                                  IV.\n\n\n\n\n                              THE HISTORY\n                                   OF\n                            PATIENT GRISEL.\n                                 1619.\n\n\n                     EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION,\n\n                                   BY\n\n                       HENRY B. WHEATLEY, F.S.A.\n\n\n                                LONDON:\n                    PRINTED FOR THE VILLON SOCIETY.\n\n                                 1885.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                             Introduction.\n\n\nThe narrative of the Patient Griselda is one of the most wide-spread of\nthe stories which have come down to us from the Middle Ages. It has been\nannexed to the highest literature by such poets as Boccaccio, Petrarch\nand Chaucer, and has been brought within reach of the meanest capacities\nby the ballad-mongers and the writers of penny histories.\n\nWe cannot trace the story back farther than the middle of the fourteenth\ncentury, when Boccaccio incorporated it into his _Decameron_ (day 10,\nnovel 10); but it must have had a previous existence in Italy, for\nPetrarch says in his letter to Boccaccio that when he read it in the\n_Decameron_ he remembered how pleased he had been with it when he heard\nit many years before. When his memory was thus revived in the story that\ncharmed him so much he set to work to learn it by heart, so that he\nmight repeat it to his friends. He then translated it into Latin for the\nbenefit of those who did not know Italian.[1] That he did repeat the\nstory to his friend we learn from the Clerk of Oxenford\u2019s Prologue to\nhis tale in the _Canterbury Tales_, where he says:\u2014\n\n                \u201cI wil yow telle a tale, which that I\n                Lerned at Padowe of a worthy clerk,\n                As provyd by his wordes and his werk.\n                He is now deed, and nayled in his chest,\n                Now God yive his soule wel good rest!\n                Fraunces Petrark, the laureat poete,\n                Highte this clerk, whos rethorique swete\n                Enlumynd al Ytail of poetrie.\u201d\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n  See _Originals and Analogues of Chaucer\u2019s Canterbury Tales_, part ii.\n  pp. 150\u2013176 (Chaucer Society).\n\nThere has been much controversy over these words. We must all wish to\nbelieve that Chaucer met Petrarch at Padua and was friendly with him;\nbut although it is highly probable that he did so we have no actual\nevidence other than this passage. Some say that Chaucer is not speaking\nhere in his own name but in that of a fictitious character, and\ntherefore the statement goes for nothing. Another objection is that here\nChaucer\u2019s indebtedness to Boccaccio is overlooked and all the credit is\ngiven to Petrarch. It is highly probable however that Chaucer was\ninterested in the story from Petrarch\u2019s talk, and that when he decided\nto make it one of his Canterbury Tales he adapted it from Petrarch\u2019s\ntranslation of Boccaccio, which is referred to farther on in the\nPrologue:\u2014\n\n             \u201cI say that he first with heigh stole enditeth\n             (Er he the body of his tale writith)\n             A proheme, in the which descrivith he\n             Piemounde, and of Saluces the contre,\n             And spekith of Appenyne the hulles hye,\n             That ben the boundes of al west Lombardye.\u201d\n\nThat this is the true origin of the Clerk\u2019s tale is confirmed by the\nfact that Petrarch varied somewhat from Boccaccio\u2019s original, and in\nthese variations Chaucer follows Petrarch. An impossible tale such as\nthis requires all the art of the true poet to make it delightful to us,\nand this of course we have in Chaucer. It is far different when we come\nto read the common-place prose of the chap-book or the equally\ncommon-place verse of the ballad-monger.\n\nThe picture of patience carried to the extreme in the wife and of brutal\nviolence in the husband is so out of harmony with our present views that\nit is somewhat difficult to read the story with patience. We are wrong,\nhowever, in taking it in this spirit, and Professor Hales has so\nbeautifully expressed the true motive of this medi\u00e6val picture that I\nfeel I cannot do better than transfer to these pages his remarks in the\npublication of the Chaucer Society containing _Originals and Analogues\nof some of Chaucer\u2019s Canterbury Tales_:[2]\u2014\u201cNow, it is the\ncharacteristic of the unsophisticated medi\u00e6val litterateur that he deals\nwith one idea at a time. It would often lead to a highly injurious\nconclusion to attach at all equal a moral importance or rather any moral\nimportance to the subordinate parts of what he sets forth. The central\nlesson is kept well in view; the others must look to themselves. The\nprincipal figure is brought into relief with enthusiasm; on the mere\nsurroundings and background little or no care is spent.... And so in the\nstory of Griselda: if we would read it in the spirit of the day when it\nbecame current we should not vex ourselves into any righteous\nindignation against the immediate author of her most touching\ndistresses. The old story does not make the marquis a monster in human\nshape; indeed, it represents him as a man of a noble and lovable nature;\nif he is not so, then even in the end Griselda reaps no earthly reward\nin permanently securing his admiration and love. And yet this marquis\nperpetrates inexpressible cruelties; he is a very wolf, ruthlessly\nteasing and tearing the gentlest of lambs. The explanation is in\naccordance with what has just been said: the patience of Griselda is the\none theme of the tale, and nothing else is to be regarded. In relation\nto her the marquis has no moral being; he is a mere means of showing\nforth her supreme excellence; a mere mechanical expedient. He is no more\nmorally than a thorn in the saint\u2019s footpath, or a wheel, or a cross.\nSurely it is vain to be wroth with him. Who rages against the mere fire\nthat enfolds the martyr, or the nails that pierce the hands of a\ncrucified Believer? Indeed, nothing in the tale is of any ethical moment\nbut the carriage of the heroine herself. The eyes and the heart of the\nold century when she first appeared were fastened devoutly on that\nsingle form, and let all else go by. She is wifely obedience itself,\nnothing else. Before that virtue all other virtues bow. It enjoys a\ncomplete monopoly, an absolute sway. Other moral life is suspended in\nthis representation of it. She has but one function; for her there is\nbut one sin possible, and that is to murmur. She is all meekness, all\nyielding, all resignation.\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n  Part ii. 1875, p. 174.\n\n\u201cSuch a figure has comparatively few charms for us of these latter days.\nBut it pleased the world once\u2014even down to Shakespeare\u2019s time, who\nhimself portrayed it in one of his earliest plays: Catherine in the\n_Taming of the Shrew_ is a phase of Griselda. Perhaps in ages when much\nmost ignorant abuse of women prevailed in literature\u2014abuse springing\nmainly out of the vile prejudices and superstitions of the medi\u00e6val\nChurch\u2014some such figure might have been expected to arise. It is the\nfigure of a reaction. The hearts of men refused to accept the\ndishonouring pictures so often drawn of their fellow mortals. They rose\nin a loyal insurrection against lying fables of essential wantonness and\nof shameful obstinacy. To such chivalrous rebels the pale, sad, constant\nface of Griselda showed itself as the image of far other experiences and\nhistories; and they gazed on it as on the face of their saint. With an\ninfinite reverence they saw her still calm and quiet in the midst of\nanguishes, with heart breaking but lips uttering no ill word, with eyes\nthat through the tears with which kindly nature of herself would relieve\nthe terrible drought of sorrow still looked nothing but inalienable\ntenderness and love.\u201d\n\nThe French have claimed for their country the origination of the story\nof Griselda; but their claim cannot be allowed. The Abb\u00e9 de Sade in his\n_Life of Petrarch_ asserts that the story is to be found in a manuscript\ncalled _Le Parement des Dames_; but it appears that this manuscript was\nthe work of Olivier de la Marche, who was not born until long after the\ndeath of Boccaccio. Boccaccio\u2019s novel was translated into French and\npublished at Paris about the year 1510 as _La Patience de Grisilidis_;\nit was published also at Troyes about 1562. Apparently, however, the\nFrench were the first to bring Griselda upon the stage; for, according\nto Warton, the Comedians of Paris represented a mystery in French verse\nentitled _Le Mystere de Griseildis, Marquis de Saluces, mis en rime\nfran\u00e7oise et par personnaiges_ in 1393. This was not printed until about\n1550, when Jehan Bonfons published it at Paris. His edition was\nreprinted in 1832.\n\nRalph Radcliffe, a somewhat voluminous play-writer, who flourished\ntowards the close of the reign of Henry VIII., is said by John Bale to\nhave written an English comedy entitled \u201cPatient Griselde,\u201d and Hans\nSachs in Germany converted the story into a drama as early as 1550; but\nin Italy, the land of its birth, it was not dramatised until 1620.\n\nIt was not possible for a story which had early taken such a strong hold\nupon the popular imagination to remain long without becoming the\nproperty of the ballad-writer, but we cannot tell if he forestalled the\nwriter of popular histories. In the Stationers\u2019 Registers we find three\nentries of Griselda as early as the year 1565\u20136; the following two\nrelate to the ballad:\u2014\n\n  Rd. of Owyn Rogers, for his lycense for pryntinge of a ballett\n  intituled the sounge of pacyente Gressell unto hyr make [mate]\n\n                                                               iiij d.\n\n  Rd. of Wylliam greffeth, for his lycense for pryntinge of ij\n  ballettes to the tune of pacyente gressell\n\n                                                               iiij d.\n\nNow the second of these entries seems to point to an earlier ballad, as\nit must have taken some time for the tune of Patient Grissell to become\nso popular; and therefore there is great probability in Mr. Chappell\u2019s\nconjecture that the original ballad was published before 1557, in which\nyear the Registers commence.\n\nAll the ballads of Griselda now in existence are essentially the same as\nthat printed in _The Garland of Goodwill_ by Thomas Deloney; and, as the\nsame ballad, divided into chapters with prose chapters at the beginning\nand end, is printed in _The Pleasant and Sweet History of Patient\nGrissell_ (reprinted by Mr. Collier for the Percy Society), it has been\nsuggested that this tract was also written by Deloney. This famous\nballad-monger is supposed to have commenced writing about the year 1586,\nso that it is probable that the ballad of 1565\u20136, and the even earlier\none suggested above, have ceased to exist. The following is a list of\nthe different titles of Deloney\u2019s ballad:\u2014\n\nA most pleasant Ballad of patient Grissell, to the tune of \u201cThe Bride\u2019s\nGood-morrow.\u201d\n\n  The earliest known edition, printed in _Collection of Seventy-nine\n  Black-Letter Ballads and Broadsides_, 1870. P. 17. (_Roxburghe\n  Ballads_, ed. W. Chappell, vol. ii. p. 268.)\n\nOf Patient Grissel and a Noble Marquess. To the tune of \u201cThe Bride\u2019s\nGood-morrow.\u201d\n\n  T. Deloney\u2019s Garland of Good-Will. 1678. Part 2. (Percy Society. No.\n  112. 1851.)\n\n  The earliest edition of the _Garland_ must have been published\n  before 1600, as Deloney died in that year.\n\nA most excellent and vertuous Ballad of the Patient Grissell. To the\ntune of \u201cThe Bride\u2019s Good-morrow.\u201d London. Printed by John Wright.\n[1640?] (_Roxburghe Ballads_, vol. i. pp. 302\u20133.)\n\nThe first part ends\u2014\n\n                      \u201cMy gracious Lord\n                        Must have his will obeyd.\u201d\n\nAnd the second begins\u2014\n\n                    \u201cShe tooke the Babies\n                      Even from the nursing ladies.\u201d\n\n  There is a copy of the ballad (in one, not two parts) in the Percy\n  Folio Manuscript. See Hales and Furnivall\u2019s edition, 1868, vol. iii.\n  p. 421.\n\nAn excellent Ballad of a Noble Marquiss and Patient Grissel.\n(_Collection of Old Ballads_, 1723, vol. i. p. 252.)\n\nThe following entries in the Stationers\u2019 Registers would appear to refer\nto the _Ancient, True, and Admirable History_ printed in this volume. It\nis stated to be translated from the French, but this statement is of no\nvalue, and it is evidently of pure English manufacture. The edition of\n1619 is the earliest known to exist:\u2014\n\n  1565\u20136. Rd. of Thomas Colwell, for his lycense for prynting of an\n  history of meke and pacyent Gresell\n\n                                                               iiij d.\n\n  1568\u20139. Rd. of Thomas Colwell, for his lycense for pryntinge of the\n  hystory of pacyent gresell, &c.\n\n                                                               viij d.\n\nThe History of the Noble Marquis of Salus, or Patient Grissel. Printed\nand sold in London. [1780?] 12mo. Pp. 24. Another edition. Aldermary\nChurchyard, n. d.\n\n  A reduced chap-book edition of the _History_ printed in this volume.\n  It seems to have been published in this form as early as 1703.\n\nWhen Mr. J. Payne Collier edited for the Percy Society \u201cThe History of\nPatient Grisel, two early Tracts in Black-Letter, with an Introduction\nand Notes,\u201d 1842, he printed after the _Ancient, True, and Admirable\nHistory_ \u201cThe Pleasant and Sweet History of Patient Grissell, shewing\nhow she from a poore man\u2019s daughter came to be a great lady of France,\nbeing a Patterne to all vertuous women. Translated out of Italian.\nLondon. Printed by E. P. for John Wright, dwelling in Giltspur Street at\nthe Signe of the Bible.\u201d\n\nThis is divided into eleven chapters, of which 1, 2, 10, and 11, are in\nprose; chapters 3 to 9 contain the ballad referred to previously, and it\nis most probable that the whole tract was the production of Deloney. The\ndate is cut off, but the pamphlet was probably printed about 1630, and\nit is doubtless a late edition of a popular chap-book. The copy in the\nBritish Museum is apparently the same as that used by Mr. Collier. It is\nhandsomely bound in morocco, and in the inside is written in pencil,\n\u201cCost me eight pounds unbound.\u201d There are two titles: the first is \u201cThe\nHistory of the Noble Marques,\u201d with a woodcut of Griselda at the\nspinning-wheel. On the back of this is the woodcut of Elizabeth,\nreproduced on the title of the Percy Society reprint.\n\nThe play of Ralph Radcliffe is now lost, so that the comedy published in\n1603 and reprinted in 1841 is the only one known to exist. We have here\na curious instance of the danger of asserting of any particular book\nthat it is unique. When Mr. Collier reprinted the play for the\nShakespeare Society he said that there was no copy in the British\nMuseum, and that the only copies he knew of were one in the Bodleian and\nanother in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, who also had an\nimperfect copy which he presented to Collier. There is now a copy in the\nBritish Museum, and in it is this note in ink: \u201cThe only copy extant.\u2014J.\nB. 1788.\u201d Under this is a pencil note: \u201cI have seen another copy, but it\nwas imperfect\u2014G. N.\u201d On the title-page is written \u201cWilliam Shakespeare,\u201d\napparently one of the Ireland forgeries.\n\nThe following entry occurs in Henslowe\u2019s Diary:\u2014\n\n  \u201cReceived in earnest of Patient Grissell by us Tho. Dekker, Hen.\n  Chettle and Willm. Hawton the sume of 3 li. of good and lawfull\n  money by a note sent from Mr. Robt. Shaa\u2019s the 19th of December,\n  1599. By me,\n\n                                                       HENRY CHETTLE.\n                                                       W. HAUGHTON.\n                                                       THOMAS DEKKER.\u201d\n\nThe Robert Shaa or Shaw here mentioned was, Mr. Collier tells us, one of\nthe temporary managers of the company of the Earl of Nottingham\u2019s\nplayers. The comedy was entered at Stationers\u2019 Hall for publication on\nthe 28th March, 1600, as \u201cthe Plaie of Patient Grissell,\u201d but it did not\nappear until three years afterwards.\n\nThe Pleasant Comodie of Patient Grissill. As it hath beene sundrie times\nlately plaid by the right honorable the Earle of Nottingham (Lord high\nAdmirall) his servants. London. Imprinted for Henry Rocket, and are to\nbe solde at the long shop under S. Mildred\u2019s Church in the Poultry.\n1603. 4to. 42 leaves.\n\nThe play is anonymous, but the entry in Henslowe\u2019s Diary informs us who\nthe authors were.\n\nPatient Grissil: a Comedy by Thomas Dekker, Henry Chettle, and William\nHaughton. Reprinted from the Black-Letter edition of 1603, with an\nIntroduction and Notes [by J. Payne Collier]. London. Printed for the\nShakespeare Society. 1841. The introduction contains an interesting\naccount of the history of Griselda.\n\nOn August 30th, 1667, Pepys saw at Bartholomew Fair the puppet play of\n\u201cPatient Grizill,\u201d and Warton in a note to his _History of English\nPoetry_ writes: \u201cI need not mention that it is to this day represented\nin England on a stage of the lowest species and of the highest\nantiquity: I mean a puppet show.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Patient Countess,\u201d in Percy\u2019s _Reliques_ from Warner\u2019s _Albions\nEngland_, is a totally different story from that of the patient wife of\nthe Marquis Walter.\n\nWarton mentions a MS. poem by William Forrest, and, as it has lately\nbeen printed, I give the title here, although it contains no notice of\nthe original Grisild.\n\nThe History of Grisild the Second: a Narrative in Verse of the Divorce\nof Queen Katharine of Arragon. Written by William Forrest, sometime\nChaplain to Queen Mary I., and now edited for the first time from the\nAuthor\u2019s MS. in the Bodleian Library by the Rev. W. D. Macray, M.A.,\nF.S.A. London. Printed by Whittingham and Wilkins at the Chiswick Press,\n1875. 4to. Roxburghe Club.\n\nThe Griselda literature is a tolerably large one, and it is therefore\nscarcely necessary in this place to give more than the above general\nindication of an interesting subject. It may be noted that the titles of\nthe works on the subject in the library of the British Museum occupy\nnine pages of the manuscript catalogue.\n\nThe patience of Griselda is almost as much a common-place of literature\nas that of Job, and writers are full of references to her cruel fate. In\na _Balade_ translated by Lydgate from the Latin \u201cGrisilde\u2019s humble\npatience\u201d is recorded.\n\nIn Thomas Feylde\u2019s \u201cContraversye bytwene a Lover and a Jaye,\u201d printed\nwithout date by Wynkyn de Worde, we read:\u2014\n\n                     \u201cRyght fewe of Grysyldes kynde\n                     Is now left on lyve.\u201d\n\nWe are told in _Harry White his Humour_, printed in 1660, that, \u201chaving\nlately read the rare history of Patient Grizell, out of it he hath\ndrawne this phylosophicall position, that if all women were of that\nwoman\u2019s condition we should have no imployment for cuckin-stooles.\u201d\n\nThe editor of the _Collection of Old Ballads_, 1723, slily remarks:\u2014\u201cIt\nmay naturally be supposed that he [the poet] had unfortunately married a\nshrew, and was willing to preach up the doctrine of patience to wives,\nby shewing them the blessings that attend this great uncommon virtue;\nand I have inserted it, thinking that amongst my readers I might have\nsome husbands who would be glad of carrying such an excellent song to\ntheir wives\u201d (vol. i. p. 252).\n\nMuch of the popularity of the story must be due to Chaucer, who first\nintroduced it to English readers and endued it with so much poetic\nbeauty and grace.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                                  THE\n                       ANCIENT TRUE AND ADMIRABLE\n                               HISTORY OF\n                            PATIENT GRISEL,\n                    A POORE MANS DAUGHTER IN FRANCE:\n                                SHEWING\n  _How Maides, By Her Example, In Their Good Behaviour May Marrie Rich\n                               Husbands;\n   And Likewise Wives By Their Patience And Obedience May Gaine Much\n                                Glorie_.\n\n\n                      WRITTEN FIRST IN FRENCH, AND\n\n            Therefore to French I speake and give direction,\n            For English Dames will live in no subjection.\n\n                  BUT NOW TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, AND\n\n           Therefore say not so, for English maids and wives\n           Surpass the French in goodnesse of their lives.\n\n\n                                AT LONDON:\n\n _Printed by H. L. for William Lugger; and are to be sold at his shop in\n                       Bedlem, neere Moore-Fields._\n\n                                  1619.\n\n\n\n\n  _The Historie of Patient Grisel, made Marchionesse of Saluss, in which\n    is Exemplified the true Obedience and Noble Behaviour of Vertuous\n    Women towards their Husbands._\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. I.\n  How the Marquesse of Saluss passed the time of his youth without any\n  desire of mariage, till he was requested by the faire entreatie of a\n favorite, and other gentlemen, to affect a wife, both for the good of\n  the country and the honour of himselfe; with his answer to the same.\n\n\nBetweene the mountaines of Italy and France, towards the south, lyes the\nterritory of Salus, a country flourishing with excellent townes and\ncastles, and peopled with the best sort of gentles and peasants: amongst\nwhom there lived not long since a nobleman of great hope and\nexpectation, lord of the country, by name Gualter, Marquesse of Saluss;\nto whom, as the government appertained by right of inheritance, so their\nobedience attended by desert of his worthinesse.\n\nHe was young in yeeres, noble of lineage, and such attractive demeanour,\nthat the best thought it a pleasure to bee commanded by him, and the\nworst grew more tractable by his good example: his delight was in\nhunting and hawking, and the pleasure of the time present extinguished\nthe care of the time to come; for he thought not of mariage, nor to\nentangle himselfe with the inconveniences of a wife; till at last the\npeople and noblemen of his country projected the contrary, as\ndiscontented to see him indisposed that way, and presaging a kind of\nprosperity to themselves, if by his mariage posteritie might arise to\nassure them the better how they might bestow their obedience hereafter.\nWhereupon they assembled together, and made one day amongst the rest a\ndeterminer of their resolutions, choosing out for their speaker a noble\nknight of great authority, faire demeanor, eloquent speech, and more\ninward with the Marquesse then any of the rest; who, thus acquainted\nwith all their mindes, and prepared to utter his owne minde, took an\nopportunity to acquaint the renowned Marquesse with the matter.\n\nMost honourable Sir, the great humanity extended towards us, of which I\nmost especially have participated, hath thus emboldened me above others,\nto make a further triall of your patience, and forbearing my rudeness:\nnot that there is any sufficiency or singularity in me above others, but\nin that heretofore I have found you so generous toward all, I make no\nquestion to finde you as gratious toward my selfe; and in that it hath\npleased you to accept of our love, wee are proud againe to be under your\nobedience; wherein we shall rejoice the more, if you now accord to our\nrequest the sooner, which is, to marry without delay. The time passeth,\nand will not be recalled, your youth intreats it, and must not be\ndenied; your country importunes it, and would not bee opposed; your\nneighbours desire it, and hope to bee satisfied; and all sorts request\nit, and wish it for your honour; for when age approacheth, death attends\nit at the heeles, and no man can tell when, or how it will fall upon\nhim. Therefore wee humbly request you to accept our supplications, and\naccord to this importunity, that we may provide by your appointment a\nlady worthy of your honour and our subjection. In this wee are the more\nsuppliant, because it will rebound so much to the good of your countrey,\nand the enlarging your renowne; for if it should so fall out (which God\nforbid) that you die without issue, we may lament the losse of our lord,\nbut not redresse the complaints of the people: we shall want you that\nwas al our comfort, but are sure of distresse to our everlasting\ntrouble. If then you either love your selfe, or pity us, frame a heart\nto this impression, and leave not us to further feare and disquiet.\n\nWhen the noble lord had thus apprehended the petition of his loving\nsubjects, he resolved to answer them as gratiously as they had\npropounded the businesse with regard of duty, and so replied: My dearest\nfriends, you have urged mee to a matter, in which as yet I have beene a\nmere stranger; for by nature I delight in liberty, and by custome\ncontinued my pleasures, both which must needs bee curbed by mariage, and\nrestrained by taking a wife: notwithstanding, I cast awaie all doubts to\npleasure you, and will thinke of no incombrances so you be satisfied.\nFor though mariage hath many difficulties attending; especially, the\nfeare of legitimation in our children, and suspicion of that honour\nwhich lies on our wives honesty, yet all shall be overcome with this\nresolution, that I shall please you in the same; for I am resolved, if\nanie good come for man\u2019s contentment by mariage, it is from God, to whom\nI submit this cause, and pray for the good successe of your wishes, that\nI may live to maintaine your peace, as well as my owne pleasure: and\nlook, wherein my contentment shall enlarge mine honour, your welfare\nshall be respected above my life; so that (beleeve it) I will satisfie\nyour demands, and apply my selfe to the purpose. Only one thing I\nrequest at your hands; to take in worth my choice, and neither insult if\nshe be a princesse of greatnes, nor repine if she be of meane estate;\nbut love her because I have loved you, and regard her howsoever in that\nshe is my wife; neither being curious nor inquisitive whom I will chuse,\nnor disaffected when it is past remedy.\n\nWhen the company heard him out, and found him so willing to their\nsatisfaction, they gave him thankes with one heart for his kinde\nadmission, and answered with one tongue, he should not find them\nrepugnant; but they would honor his wife as the princesse of the world,\nand be morigerous to him as the commander of their soules. Thus did this\nnew report (like a messenger of glad tidings) fill all the marquisate\nwith joy, and the palace with delight, when they understood their lord\nwould marry, and in a manner heard the time appointed; for presently it\nwas proclaimed through the countrey, and a day assigned for all commers\nto come to the court. The nobles prepared themselves in the best manner:\nthe ladies spared no cost, either for ornaments of their bodies, or\nsetting out their beauties; the gentles flocked to please their lord,\nand were brave to set out their owne greatnes: the citisens were rich in\ntheir neatnes, and handsome in their attire: the officers were formall\nin their showes, and sumptuous in their attendants; the countryman had\nhis variety, and the verie peasant his bravery; in a word, al sorts\ngloried in the hope of that festivall, and every man\u2019s expectation\nattended the day of triumph. For never was such a preparation in Saluss\nbefore, nor such a confluence of people seene in that countrey; for\nbesides the novelty, many forraine princes came to celebrate this\nmariage, and to shew their owne greatnes. Savoy was neare, and sent some\nfrom her snowie hills: France as neare, and sent others from her\nfruitful vines: Italy not far off, and sent many from her pleasant\nfields; and the ilands round about kept none at home that would come.\nThus were his kinred invited, strangers admitted, his owne people\nentertained, and all sorts welcommed; but as yet no bride was seene, no\nwoman named, no lady designed, no maid published, no wife knowne: onely\nthe preparation was much, and the expectation greater.\n\nAll this while the Marquesse continued his hunting, and as he had\naccustomed, resorted much to a poore country village not farre from\nSalusse, where there dwelt as poore a countriman, named Janicole,\noverworne in yeares, and overcomne with distresse. But as it happens\nmany times that inward graces doe moderate outward discommodities, and\nthat God seasoneth poverty with contentment and their sufficient\nsupportation, so had this poore man all his defects supplied in the\nadmirable comfort of one onely daughter, so composed, as if nature\ndetermined a worke of ostentation. For such was her beauty in\nappearance, and vertue in operation, that it put judicious men to an\nextasie in the choice by comparison; but both united did heere grace\neach other, and when they pretended an action, it was all to go forward\nto perfection. And whereas in others this temporary blessing gave wings\nto desire to bee seene and knowne abroad, in her those innated vertues\nallaied the heat of all manner of passion, and breakings out of frailty.\nThe viands they had were but meane, and the diet they kept was to\nsatisfie nature: the time was over-ruled by their stomachs, and the\nceremonies they used were thanks to God, and moderation in their\nrepasts. The utensiles of the house were homely, yet handsome in regard\nof their cleanlinesse: that bed which they had the ould man lay in, and\nthe sweet daughter made shift with the ground. No day passed without\nprayers and praises to God (for was it not praiseworthy to have such\ngrace in this disgrace), nor any night without taking account of the day\npassed.\n\nHer exercise was to helpe her father in the morning, and drive forth her\nsheep in the day time: hee was at home making of nets, and shee abroad\nlooking to her lambs: she was never heard to wish for any better, but to\nthank God it was no worse. No word of repining ever came from her mouth,\nor the least grudge from her heart: at night she folded her sheep and\ndressed her father\u2019s supper, then lay they downe to rest, and rested as\nwell as in a bed of downe indeed. This was the glory of their poverty,\nand memory of their contentment.\n\nBut as fire will not be hid where there is matter combustible, so vertue\nwill not be obscured where there be tongues and eares: nor could the\nMarquesse so hallow after his hawks and hounds, but report hallowed in\nhis eare as fast this wonderment; insomuch that when it was confirmed by\njudicious relation he made it not dainty to be behoulding to his owne\nexperience: which when he saw concurring with fame, the miracle brought\na kinde of astonishment; which continuing, the properties of such\nnovelties, increased to meditation: and so comparing the rest with this\nrarity, he thought her a fit woman to make his wife, supposing that if\nshe were vertuous by nature, she would not prove vicious by education;\nbut rather as a diamond is a stone of the same value whether set in lead\nor horne, it must needs be of more excellency embellished with gold and\nenamell. In which resolution hee prepared his heart, and went forward\nwith his businesse.\n\nIn the meane time the Court was daintily furnished, the plate prepared,\nthe apparell magnificent, the coronet rich, the jewels precious, the\nornaments exceeding, and all things befitting the magnificence of a\nprince and the dignities of a queen: only the nobles wondred, the ladies\nwere amazed, the damsells marvelled, the gentles disputed, the people\nflocked, and all sorts attended to see who should possesse this wealth\nand bee adorned with these robes. Till at last the nuptial day came\nindeed: honour prepared the sumptuousness; fame divulged the glory;\nhymen invited the guests; magnificence adorned the roomes; the officers\nmarshald the state, and all looked for a bride; but who she was the next\nchapter must discover.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. II.\nHow, after all this great preparation, the Marquesse of Saluss demanded\n   Grisell of her poore father Janicola; and, espousing her, made her\n                        Marchionesse of Saluss.\n\n\nWhen all things were extended to this glorious shew, the Marquesse (as\nif he went to fetch his wife indeed) tooke with him a great company of\nearls, lords, knights, squires, and gentlemen, ladies, and attendants,\nand went from the palace into the countrey toward Janicolas house; where\nthe faire mayd Grisel, knowing nothing of that which hapned, nor once\ndreaming of that which was to come, had made her house and selfe\nsomewhat handsome, determining (with the rest of her neighbour virgins)\nto see this solemnity: at which instant arrived the Marquesse with all\nhis gracious company, meeting with Grisel as shee was carrying two\npitchers of water to her poore fathers house. Of whom (calling her by\nher name) he asked where her father was? She humbly answered, in the\nhouse. Goe then, said hee, and tell him I would speak with him. So the\npoore old man (made the poorer by this astonishment) came forth to the\nlord somewhat appauled, till the Marquesse, taking him by the hand, with\nan extraordinary chearefulnesse said, that he had a secret to impart\nunto him, and so, sequestering him from the company, spake these\nwords:\u2014Janicola, I know that you alwaies loved me, and am resolved that\nyou doe not now hate me. You have been glad when I have been pleased,\nand will not now bee sorrowful if I bee satisfied: nay, I am sure, if it\nlie in your power, you will further my delight, and not bee a contrary\nto my request. For I intend to begge your daughter for my wife, and bee\nyour sonne in lawe for your advancement. What saiest thou, man? wilt\nthou accept mee for a friend, as I have appointed thee for a father?\n\nThe poore ould man was so astonished, that he could not looke up for\nteares, nor speak a word for joy; but when the extasie had end, hee thus\nfaintly replied:\u2014My gracious soueraigne, you are my lord, and therefore\nI must accord to your will; but you are generous, and therefore I\npresume on your vertue; take her a Gods name, and make mee a glad\nfather; and let that God, which raiseth the humble and meek, make her a\nbefitting wife, and fruitful mother. Why then, replied the Marquesse,\nlet us enter your house, for I must ask her a question before you. So\nhee went in, the company tarrying without in great astonishment: the\nfaire maid was busied to make it as handsome as she could, and proud\nagaine to have such a guest under her roofe; amazed at nothing but why\nhee should come so accompanied, and little conjecturing of so great a\nblessing approaching. But, at last, the Marquesse took her by the hand,\nand used these speeches:\u2014To tell you this blush becomes you, it were but\na folly; and that your modesty hath graced your comlines, may prove the\ndeceit of words, and unbefitting my greatnes; but in a word, your father\nand I have agreed to make you my wife, and I hope you will not disagree\nto take me to your husband. For delay shall not intangle you with\nsuspicion, nor two daies longer protract the kindnes; onely I must be\nsatisfied in this, if your heart afford a willing entertainement to the\nmotion, and your vertue a constancy to this resolution, not to repine at\nmy pleasure in any thing, nor presume on contradiction, when I determine\nto command. For as amongst good souldiers, they must simply obey without\ndisputing the businesse: so must vertuous wives dutifully consent\nwithoute reproofe, or the least contraction of a brow. Therefore be\nadvised how you answer, and I charge you take heed, that the tongue\nutter no more then the heart conceits. All this while Grisel was\nwondring at the miracle, had not religion told her that nothing was\nimpossible to the commander of all things; which reduced her to a better\nconsideration and thus brought forth an answere.\n\nMy gracious lord, I am not ignorant of your greatnesse, and know mine\nowne basenesse: there is no worth in me to be your servant, therefore\nthere can be no desert to be your wife: notwithstanding, because God\nwill be the author of miraculous accidents, I yeeld to your pleasure,\nand praise him for the fortune; onely this I will be bold to say, that\nyour will shall be my delight, and death shall be more welcome unto mee\nthen a word of displeasure against you.\n\nThis is sufficient, answered the great lord, and so most lovingly he\ntook her by the hand, and brought her to the company, even before all\nhis peeres and great ladies, and told them she should bee his wife, so\nthat wherein they extended their love, reverence, and obedience toward\nher, he could exemplifie his regard, care, and diligence toward them.\nAnd because outward shewes doe sometimes grace befitting actions (lest\nher poverty and basenes might too much daunt their expectation, and\nseeme disgratious to their noblenes), he commanded them with a morall\nlivelinesse to adorne her with the richest robes they had; so that it\nwas a pleasure to see how the ladies bestird themselves, a delight to\nbehould the severall services performed, the many hands about her, the\njewels and pendants, the robes and mantles, the ornaments and coronets,\nthe collanaes and chaines, with all other particulars and\naccoustrements, but when she was apparelled indeed, it was a ravishment\nexceeding report, and they which stomached her preferment were now\ndelighted with her glory. Such a benefit hath beauty by nature, and\ngratiousnesse by nurture.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. III.\n          How the Marquesse and Grisel were married together.\n\n\nAfter the ladies had thus adorned poore Grisel with robes befitting her\nestate, the Marquesse and all the noble company returned to Saluss, and\nin the Cathedrall Church, in sight of the people, according to the\nfulnesse of religious ceremonies, they were espoused together, and with\ngreat solemnitie returned to the palace. Herein yet consisted the\nadmiration, that no word of reproach was murmured, nor eie looked\nunpleasantly upon her; for by her wonderfull demeanour shee had gained\nso much of opinion that the basenes of her birth was not thought upon,\nand all her graces concurring made them verely beleeve shee was\nextracted of princely lineage: no man once supposed that shee could be\nGrisel, daughter to poore Janicola, but rather some creature\nmetamorphosed by the powers of heaven: for besides the outward\nstatelinesse and majestical carriage of herselfe, the wonderfull\nmodestie and exact symmetry of her countenance, the admirable beauty and\nextraordinary favor of her visage, her faire demeanour had a kinde of\nattraction, and her gratious words a sweet delivery; so that all that\ncame to her were glad of their accesse, and they which went from her\ntriumphed for their good speed: yea, report extended so far, that she\nwas not onely visited by her owne lords and ladies with reverence, but\nattended on with strangers, who came from all quarters to see her and to\nbee behoulding to their owne judgements; so that if the Marquesse loved\nher before for her own worth, he now reverenced her for others respect;\nthe rather, because he found a blessing attending her presence, and all\npeople pleased in the contract? For when any controversie hapned\nbetweene himselfe and his nobles, she was so nobly minded, that what she\ncould not obtaine by fair intreaty she yet mitigated by sweet\nperswasion. When any unkindnes hapned of forraine prince, shee urged\nthose blessings of peace, and reasoned the matter with delightsom\nenforcement; and when the people were either complained of, or against,\nhe marvelled from whence she had those pretty reasons to asswage his\nanger, and they verely beleeved shee was sent from heaven for their\nreleefe. Thus was shee amiable to her lord, acceptable to her people,\nprofitable to her country, a mirror of her sexe, a person priviledged by\nnature, and a wonder of the time, in which she did nothing out of time;\nso that the Marquesse was rather ravished than loving, and all his\nsubjects resolved to obedience from her good example.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. IV.\n How the lady Grisel was proved by her husband, who thus made triall of\n                             her patience.\n\n\nTo other blessings, in processe of time, there was added the birth of a\nsweet infant, a daughter, that rejoiced the mother, and gladded the\nfather: the country triumphed, and the people clapped their hands for\njoy; for the Marquesse still loved her more and more, and they thought\ntheir lives not deere for her, if occasion served. Notwithstanding all\nthis, Fortune hath still a tricke to checke the pride of life, and\nprosperity must be seasoned with some crosses, or eke it would taint and\ncorrupt us too much: whereupon, the Marquesse determined now to prove\nhis wife, and make triall of her vertues indeed; and so taking a\nconvenient season, after the childe was fully weaned, he one day\nrepaired secretly to her chamber, and (seeming halfe angry) thus\nimparted his mind.\n\nAlthough, Grisel, this your present fortune hath made you forget your\nformer estate, and that the jollity of your life overswayeth the\nremembrance of your birth, yet neither is it so with me, nor my nobles;\nfor I have some occasion of distasting, and they great cause of\nrepining, in that they must be subject to one so base, and have still\nbefore their eyes our children of such low degree; so that though (for\nmy sake) they make good semblance of the present, yet are they resolved\nnever to suffer any of our posterity to rule over them; of which, as\nthey have disputed with mee, I cannot chuse but forewarne you.\nTherefore, to prevent this discontentment betweene us, and to maintaine\nthat peace which must corroborate my estate, I must needes yeelde to\ntheir judgements, and take away your daughter from you, to preserve\ntheir amity: the thing I know must be displeasing to nature, and a\nmother cannot well indure such a losse; but there is now no remedy: only\nmake use of your first resolutions, and remember what you promised me at\nthe beginning of our contract.\n\nThe lady, hearing this sorrowfull preamble, and apprehending the\nMarquesse resolution, to her griefe, (although every word might have\nbeene as arrowes in her sides) yet admitting of the temptation, and\ndisputing with herselfe to what end the vertues of patience, modesty,\nforbearance, fortitude, and magnanimity were ordained, if they had not\nsubjects to worke upon, and objects to looke after, thus replyed.\n\nMy lord, you are my soveraigne, and all earthly pleasures and\ncontentments of my life come from you, as the fountaine of my\nhappinesse, and therefore please your selfe, and (beleeve it) it is my\npleasure you are pleased; as for the child, it is the gift of God, and\nyours. Now he that gives may take away, and as wee receive blessings\nfrom heaven, so must we not dote on them on earth, lest by setting our\nminds too much upon them, wee cannot set off our hearts when they are\ntaken from us; only one thing I desire, that you remember I am a mother;\nand if I burst not out into passion for her losse, it is for your sake I\nam no more perplexed, and so you shall ever find mee a wife befitting\nyour desires.\n\nWhen the Marquesse saw her constancy, and was in a manner pleased with\nher modest answere, hee replied not at all at that time; for his heart\nwas full, and what betweene joy and feare he departed: joy that so great\nvertue had the increase of goodnesse, feare that he had presumed too\nfarre on such a trial. But resolved in his businesse, hee went to put it\nto the adventure.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. V.\nThe Marquesse sent a varlet for his daughter; but privately disposed of\nher with his sister, the Dutchesse of Bologna de Grace, who brought her\n      up in all things befitting the childe of so great a person.\n\n\nNot long after this sad conference between the Marquesse and his lady,\nhee called a faithfull servant unto him; such a one as the poet talks\nof, _propter fidem et taciturnitatem dilectum_, to whom hee imparts this\nsecrecy, and with severall instructions, what hee truly meant to do with\nthe child, sent him to his wife with an unsavory message, which yet hee\ndelivered in this manner.\n\nI had not now come to you, most noble lady, though that power commanded\nme which hath my life in subjection, if I had not more relied upon your\nwisdome and vertue, than feared death it selfe. Therefore I crave pardon\nif I am displeasing in my message, and seeme cruell (as it were) in\ntearing your flesh from your sides, by bereaving you of this your\ndaughter; for hee hath appointed it that must not bee gainsaid, and I am\na messenger that cannot bee denied. But yet with what unwillingnes (God\nknowes my soule) in regard that you are so respected amongst us, that\nwee think of nothing but what may delight you, and talk not a word but\nof your merit and worthinesse.\n\nWhen she had heard him out, remembring the conference the Marquesse had\nwith her, and apprehending there was no disputing in a matter\nremedilesse, especially with a messenger, shee resolved it was ordained\nto dy; and although shee must now (as it were) commit it to a\nslaughter-house, whereby any woman in the world might with good\nbecomming have burst out into some passion, and well enough shewed a\ndistracted extasie, yet recollecting her spirits, and reclaiming those\nmotives of nature already striving in her bowels, shee tooke the childe\nin her armes, and with a mothers blessing and sweetned kisses, the\ncountenance somewhat sad, and the gesture without any violent\nexcruciation, delivered it unto the fellow, not once amazed or\ndistempred, because her lord would have it so, and shee knew not how to\nhave it otherwise: only she said, I must, my friend, intreat one thing\nat your hands, that out of humanity and Christian observation, you leave\nnot the body to bee devoured of beasts or birds, for it is worthy of a\ngrave in her innocency, and Christian buriall, though shee were but my\ndaughter alone.\n\nThe fellow having received the childe, durst not tarry for feare of\ndiscovery (such impression had her words made already), but returned\nwith it to his maister, not leaving out the least circumstance of her\nanswer, nor any thing that might enlarge her renown and constancy.\n\nThe Marquesse, considering the great vertue of his wife, and looking on\nthe beauty of his daughter, began to enter into a kinde of compassion,\nand to retract his wilfulnesse; but at last resolution won the field of\npity, and having (as he thought) so well begunne, would not so soone\ngive over, but with the same secrecy hee had taken her from his wife,\nhee sent it away to his sister, the Dutchess of Bologna, with presents\nof worth, and letters of gratification, containing in them the nature of\nthe businesse, and the manner of her bringing up, which she accordingly\nput in practice, receiving her neece with joy, and instructing her with\ndiligence; so that it soone appeared under what a tutelage shee was, and\nwhose daughter shee might be. For her pregnancy learned whatsoever they\ntaught her, and the grace she added, quickly discovered that honour had\nconfederated with nature to make her the offspring of such a mother.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. VI.\n   The Marquesse, not contented with this proofe, tooke away also her\n     sonne, in which adversity (with other additions) she shewed an\n                        extraordinary patience.\n\n\nAfter this tempest was overpast, the rage whereof might easily have\nbroken the tender sides of poore Grisels barke (for shee verely beleeved\nthat her daughter was slaine), the Marquesse still lay in waite for the\ntrial of his wife, watching every opportunity which might acquaint him\nwith her discontentments; especially if he might understand whether she\ncomplained of his rigorousnesse and unkindnesse, or no: but when he not\nonly was advertised of her constancy and faire demeanour, but saw (by\nexperience) that shee was neither elated in prosperity, nor dejected in\nadversity; when hee perceiued so great a temperature betweene the joy of\nher advancement and the sorrow for her trouble, he wondred at her\nconstancy; and the rather, because her love and observation toward him\ncontinued with that sweetnes, and had such delectable passages, that his\nheart was set on fire againe, and hee knew not how to allay the\nextreamities of his joy. In this manner passed foure yeeres, wherein she\noverpassed all of her kinde, and he thought it a donative from heaven to\nhave such a wife. At last nature bestird herselfe againe, and made her a\nhappy mother of a faire sonne; the joy whereof led the whole country\ninto the house of praier and thanksgiving, and brought them home againe\nby cresset-light and bonfires, so that she well perceived how acceptable\nshe was to her people and beloved of her husband. Notwithstanding, with\nthe same water that drave the mill hee drowned it, and made her still\nbeleeve the contrary; for after two yeeres, that the childe was past the\ndanger of a cradle, and the trouble of infancy, he tooke occasion once\nagaine to inflict upon the vertuous Grisel a new punishment, erecting\nhis building upon the old foundation.\n\nYou knowe, saith hee, what former contentions I have had with my\nnobility about our marriage; not that they can lay any imputation on you\nor your worthy behavior, but on my fortune and disasterous affection to\nmatch myselfe so meanly: wherein yet their forward exprobation was\nrebated, all the while we either had no children, or that they supposed\nthat which we had to be taken from us; all which ariseth out of the\nerror of ambition (which in a manner is carelesse of vertue) respecting\nnothing but a high progeny. So that ever since this child was borne\nthere hath passed many secret grudgings, and unkinde speeches against\nit, as if it were a disparagement to their greatnesse to have a lord of\nso meane parentage, and the country to be subject to the grand child of\nJanicola, whom you see never since our marriage they would admit to\nplace of honor, or to overtop them by way of association, nor will\nsuffer this my Gualter, though it carry the fathers name, to rule over\nthem. Therefore, to allay the heat of these present fires, and to\npreserve the peace of my estate (by preventing the mischief of future\ntroubles), I am resolved to settle my contentment, and to deale with\nyour sonne as I have dealt with your daughter. And of this I thought it\ngood to advertise you, as a preparative for patience, lest sorrow should\ndistract you with oversuddennesse.\n\nNow you ladies and dames of these times, that stand upon tearmes of\nspirit and greatnesse of heart (some will have it courage and\nmagnanimity of minde), that are affrighted at the character of a foole,\nand silly poore soule; I speake not of strumpets, or of such as are\nwilling to brand themselves with the impurity of uncleannesse, and dare\nout of impudency or cunning tell their husbands to their faces they will\ngo where they list, and do what they please, but of such that under that\nimpregnable target of honestie are yet so impatient at every\ndistemperature, that they dare answer taunt for taunt: yea, like\nviragoes indeed, offer the first blow, though a horrible confusion\nfollow, what would you have answered this lord? or with what fire-works\nwould you have made your approches unto him? I will not tarry for your\nanswere, lest I pull the old house in peeces, and so, though I scape the\ntimber, I may be crushed with the rubbish; but I will now anticipate (or\nprevent) all objections by telling you what faire Grisel said; and if\nthere bee hope of reformation, insert it as a caution to divert you from\nyour naturall fiercenes.\n\nWhen shee had heard him out, though to the griefe of her soule, she\nconceived the murther of her childe, and that the apprehension renewed\nthe sorrow of her daughters losse; yet would she give no way to such\ndistemperature, that either hee should have cause to suspect her\npatience, or shee herselfe the temptation of disquiet, and therefore\nthus replied:\u2014My lord, I have many times told you, that my soule\nrejoiceth in nothing but in your reposednes, for you are the lord of me\nand this infant; and though I could bee contented to shew myselfe a\nmother in his education, and bring him now and then unto you as the\npledge of our loves, yet are you the commander of my vowes, and I will\nrectifie all disordered appetites by the rule of your pleasure. Take him\nthen, a Gods name, and if hee be marked for death, it is but the common\nbrand of all creatures; nay, if the mother may be a sacrifice of\npropitiation to appease your disquiet, never was lamb so meek, nor\nholocaust so willing to bee offred. For, what may bee comprehended under\nthe titles of father, kinred, children, friends, life, pleasure,\nhonours, and contentment, are all comprised under your love, and the\nsociety of a husband. Do with mee, then, what you please: the body shall\nserve your turne while it lives, and the soule attend you after death.\n\nHere was an answer to pacifie the tyrants of Sicilie, and put a man\nquite out of his tract of proving such a wife! Yet the Marquesse onely\nmade use of it to rejoice in the assurance of her goodness, and went the\nrather forward in his dangerous course of temptation.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. VII.\nThe Marquesse, resolute to prove his wife further, sendeth for his son,\n          and disposeth of him as he had done of his daughter.\n\n\nAs this patient and wonderfull lady was one day sporting with her\ninfant, like an untimely tempest (spoiling the beauty of some new rooted\nplants) did this messenger of death interpose himselfe betweene her\nrecreation, making the hollow demand of her sonne worse than the noise\nof a schrich-owle over a sick mans bed: yet (as if there were a\nconscience in disquieting her greatnes, or if you will, her goodnes) he\ncame forward with preambles and apologies, insinuating, with craving\npardon, the authority of a lord, the duty of a servant, the terrour of\ndeath, the circumstance of obedience, and all other enforcements which\nmight either excuse a messenger, or make the message of it selfe without\nblame. What should I enlarge a discourse of terrour? it is a curtesie to\nconclude a mischiefe with quicknes. Hee was not so sudden in his demand,\nas shee was ready in her dispatch, for she presently blest the child,\nkissed it, crossed it, adorned it, and delivered it to the executioner:\nonely with the same enforcement shee pleaded, as shee had spoken of in\nthe behalfe of her daughter, not to see it perish for lack of a buriall,\nor devoured for want of a grave.\n\nIn this manner, and with this report, hee returned to his lord, who had\nstill more cause of amazement, and lesse reason to trouble such a\ncreature, had not his wilfulnes put him forward to make an end of his\nbusinesse, and taught him still variety of trying this gold in the fire.\nBut for the time hee sent likewise this childe to his sister, the\nDuchesse of Bologna (yet some will have her but Countesse of Paniche),\nwho, understanding her brothers minde, brought up both these children in\nsuch a fashion, that though no man knew whose children they were, yet\nthey imagined whose they might bee; that is, the son and daughter of\nsome prince, or other potentate, willing to have his children brought up\nto the best purpose, and befitting their birth and honour.\n\nThe ordering of this businesse in this sort made the Marquesse once\nagaine settle himselfe in Saluss, where he kept open house to all\ncomers, and was proud of nothing so much as the honour of his wife, and\nthe love of his people: for although he had thus tried her patience and\nconstancy, giving her more than sufficient cause of anguish and\nperturbation, yet coulde he not finde fault, or had the least\ndemonstration of offence, but still she loved him more and more, and was\nso observingly dutifull and cautelous of displeasure, that many times he\ngrew enamored of that he might command, and seemed passionate in the\ndistractions of over-joy. Nor could the length of time make this love\nwearisome, for all they had lived thus a dozen years together; onely\nshee got the hand of him in the opinion of the people, who by this\nbeganne to whisper against his unkindnes, that had married so vertuous a\nwoman, and bereaved her of two children; so that if they were slaine, it\nwas a murther, if otherwise, it was unkindnesse. For though shee were\npoore Janicolas daughter by birth, yet she might come from heaven for\nher vertue, and was sure to go thither for her piety. Notwithstanding\nthese breakings out, which came often to the eares of his honour, such\nwas her moderation and his government, that they only whisperd the same\non her behalfe, and contented themselves with the expectation of future\ngood, as they had the fruition of present happinesse, not meddling with\nthe same further, than in the commiseration of her, and still\nacknowledging their duty to him; so that although hee knew shee might\nthis way understand his former reasons of taking away her children, that\nit was but a devise, and that there were some other motives, which\nprocured this unkindnes, yet was he still obstinate to exercise her\npatience, and conceit beat out another plot of offence on the anvill of\na loving, yet most hardned heart.\n\n\n\n\n                               CHAP. IX.\nThe Marquesse, to try his lady further, made her beleeve hee would marry\n                             another wife.\n\n\nSome dozen years were passed since the Marquesse of Saluss had sent his\ndaughter to Bologna, to his sister (as you have heard), who was by this\ntime growne to that beautie, comelinesse, and perfection, that her fame\nbusied all Europe; and the lady Grisel, her mother, was made acquainted\nwith her excellency, whereupon, he very strangely sent to Rome, by a\nmessenger of trust, for counterfeit letters to marrie [t]his paragon,\nand to bee dispensed from his first wife. Which was so effectually\ndispatched, that the messenger soone returned with the approbation of\nhis request, and hee himselfe had many allegations in readinesse to\nexcuse the matter, intimating the good of the countrie, and the\ncontinual desire of his people for the alteration; which, although it\nwas far from probability, because they pitied their ladies distresse,\nand rather repined against their lords inconstancy, yet it served his\nturne for the time, and he thereupon erected the frame of this second\nmarriage. By this time is the faire Grisel acquainted with the\nbusinesse, and troubled at the misfortune; but having many times plaied\nthe wanton with affliction, she resettled herself to endure whatsoever\nshould be imposed; so that when she came to the proofe, indeed, nothing\naffronted her constancy nor humbled her lower then her own vertue had\ntaught her the way.\n\nIn the mean while, the Marquesse had under hand sent to the Count of\nPaniche and his sister, to bring him his children with all the pompe and\nglory they could prepare, with caution not to discover their names, and\nto be at a day appointed at Saluss: so that it passed for current all\nover the country that a lady, a yong, brave, and gallant lady, of great\nlineage, and greater worth, of high renown and mighty affinity, was\ncomming into Saluss to be espoused to the Marquesse, and that they were\nalready come out of Bologna de Grace, a whole dayes journey forward,\nwith such a troope and company that it was a shew of magnificence, and a\nspectacle of delight. For amongst the rest there was a young lord, not\nfully eight yeere old, whose bravery and gallantnesse drewe all mens\neyes with admiration toward him, had not the lady divided the gazing,\nand shared with their opinion. For, besides her riches and outward\nornaments, her youth (as not fully thirteene) and upright comelinesse,\nher bewty and gracious behauiour, she was of extraordinary stature, and\nmajestike presence.\n\nThese things thus disposed and handsomely carried, the Marquesse tooke\nan opportunity thus to speak to the disconsolate Grisel before all his\npeople. In times past, I confesse, you deserved my love, and\nnotwithstanding the disparity betweene us, I thought it well bestowed\nupon you; nay, I cannot now impute any ill desert unto you:\nnotwithstanding, for some reasons to myselfe best knowne, of which I\nhave made the holy father acquainted, I am resolved to take another\nwife; who, as you heare, is on the way hitherward already: wherefore I\nwould advise you to retire to your fathers cotage, till you heare\nfurther from me.\n\nAlas! my lord, replied the sweet soule, I ever disputed the matter with\nreason, that there was no equality betweene so great magnificence and my\nhumiliation, and in the greatest assurance of my prosperity, reputed my\nselfe a vassaile and handmaid, proud of nothing but my owne readinesse\nto be at your command, and your willingnes to employ mee in your\naffaires; so that, I take God to my witnes, I scarce trusted my selfe\nwith the name of a wife, when I was in the best assurance. Therefore, I\nmust acknowledge what you have heretofore vouchsafed as a part of great\nbounty, and the very fruits of your generousnes. As for returning to my\npoore fathers house, I am most willing; and there, as you please, like a\nforlorne widow will spend the rest of my dayes; yet remember I was your\nwife, espoused orderly, and you have had children by mee, so that if I\nthere dye, I must yet dye the widow of such a lord, and for honors sake\nbe so reputed. As for your new spouse, God grant her many daies of\ncomfort, and you many yeeres of joy, that you may live in reciprocall\ndelight one with another, and intertaine no worse contentment than poore\nGrisel accustomed. As for my dowry I brought, I brought only my selfe,\nand will have no more back againe, which was faith, love, reverence,\npoverty and virginity; for, as I came naked from my fathers house, I am\ncontented to return so againe. Your jewels are in the wardrobe, and even\nthe ring you married me withal, in the chamber: of this I weare, I shall\nquickly be disrobed, and if there be any further misery appointed, my\npatience can endure it, if your pleasure impose it; onely in recompence\nof my virginitie, I request a poore smocke to hide that wombe from\npublic overlooking that was once so private to so great a prince; and\nbecause it was the bed of your infants, let it not bee the scorne of\nyour people, but give mee leave thus to goe out of the palace, that\nhereafter times may wonder how quietly a woman yeelded to so great a\nchange. Nay, let no man shed a teare, I must bee more naked than so; for\nthough the wife of a Marquesse while I lived, and the widow when I died,\nyet am I not too good for a grave, but in despight of pride must return\nto dust and ashes.\n\nDid I say before, they began to weep? I can assure you, when she had\ndone, they roared out-right; yea, the Marquesse himselfe shed so many\nteares that he was faine to retire, and commanded the smock she had\nbegged to be sent unto her, that shee might prosecute the enterprise,\nand he determine his businesse, as he had constantly projected.\n\n\n\n\n                              CHAP. VIII.\n How the patient Grisel was disrobed of her apparell, and restored all\n          she had (except one poore smocke) to the Marquesse.\n\n\nBefore I proceed any further in this wonderfull discovery, I am sure two\nthings will bee objected against mee: first, the impossibility of the\nstory; secondly, the absurdity of the example. For the story I answer,\nthat therefore it was thus published and connected together, for the\nrarity of the businesse, and the sweetnes of the successe, nor is it any\nway stranger than many Roman passages, and Grecian discourses. For the\napplication, it is both necessary and befitting; for whereas in the\ncondition of women, amongst many other, there bee two especiall errours\nagainst the modesty of their sex, and quietnes of their husbands,\nvidelicet, superiority and desire of liberty (I name not irregular\nbehaviour, household inconveniences, and domesticks strife), this one\nexample (as Hercules did the serpents) strangles them both in the\ncradle, and though it cannot prevent, yet will it exprobrate the fault.\nFirst concerning superiority. I hope the instances of scripture are not\nmade canonicall to no purpose, and out of reason and naturall\ninforcement: what a filthinesse is it to a generous spirit, to have a\nwoman so presumptuous as to take an account of her husband\u2019s actions and\nbusinesse? Wherein many times they are so peremptory, that I have seene\nthem enter the rooms of privacy, where secret businesses of strangers\nhave been imparted, and were to be discussed, nor hath this been done\nwith a lovely insinuation, or cunning excuse of longing, or willingness\nto be instructed, or other pretty inducements to permission, but with a\nhigh commanding voice, and impudent assurances of their owne worth: yea,\nI have knowne them breake open letters before they came to their\nhusbands\u2019 overlooking, and have wondred even at souldiers themselves,\nthat would give way to such indecency. Againe, to be counter-checked in\nthis wilfulnes, what clamours have beene raised! what tumults and\ndiscomforts occasioned! that instead of awful obedience and delightsome\naffability, they have burst out into outragiousnes, commanded teares of\nmischeife, and threatned suspicious revenges. But let them soile\nthemselves in the filthinesse of this humour never so much. I say\nplainely, that though their husbands were fooles by nature, yet is it\nnot befitting for a wife to discover the same, or over-rule in forren\naffaires, I meane matters which concerne them not: for there is no great\nman so weake but hath councell and supportation of inferior officers,\nnor mean man so sottish but hath friends or servants in the dispatch of\nhis businesse. Secondly, concerning the desire of liberty: oh, hellish\ndevice of the divell, and fearefull custome both of France and England!\nI hope he that knowes the fashions of the East, of Muscovy, Spain,\nItaly, and the Mores, understands that no married wife goes abroad but\nto honorable purposes; and it is an introduction to death to salute any\nstranger, or be seene in private conference. For, in true understanding,\nwhat businesse should any man have with my wife three houres together in\nprivate? or why, without my leave, and that upon good grounds, should\nshee wander in publike? I speake not to overthrow noble societies,\ngenerous entertainment, familiar invitations, curteous behaviour,\ncharitable welcomes, honest recreations, or peradventure, the imparting\nof private businesse; but meerly against foppish wantonesse, idle talke,\nsuspicious meetings, damnable play-hunting, disorderly gaming,\nunbefitting exercises, and in a word, all such things as tend to\nobscenity and wickednes; in which (say what women can), if there be not\na moderation by nature, there must be an inforcement by judgement; and\nthat woman that will not be ruled by good councell must be over-ruled by\nbetter example,\u2014of which, this now in hand (of Lady Grisel) is a mirror,\nand transparent chrystall to manifest true vertue, and wifely duty\nindeed; and so I come to the wonder of her obedience.\n\nAfter the Marquesse was resolved to the last act of her tryall, and had\nsent her the smocke shee demanded, amongst all the lords, knights,\nladies, and other company, she presently disrobed her selfe, and went,\nso accompanied, from the palace to her father\u2019s cottage, who, as you\nhave heard (for divers reasons), was only kept from want, but never\nadvanced out of the same.\n\nThe company could not choose but weepe and deplore the alteration of\nfortune; she could not choose but smile, that her vertue was predominant\nover passion: they exclaimed against the cruelty of her lord, she\ndisclaimed the least invective against him: they wondred at so great\nvertue and patience, she resolved them they were exercises befitting a\nmodest woman: they followed her with true love and desire to doe her\ngood, she thanked them with a true heart, and request to desist from any\nfurther deploring of her estate.\n\nBy this time they approached the house, and the poore old man, Janicola,\nacquainted with the hurli-burly, came out to see what the matter was.\nAnd finding it was his daughter in her smocke, and in so honourable a\ncompany, bemoaning her distresse, he quickly left them all unspoke unto,\nand ran in for those poore robes, which were formerly left in the house;\nwith which hee quickly arayed her, and told her before them all, that\nnow shee was in her right element, and, kissing her, bad her welcom. The\ncompany was as much astonished at his moderation as at her constancie,\nwondring how nature could bee so restrained from passion, and that any\nwoman had such grace to be so gracious; in which amaze, not without some\nreprehension of fortune, and their lord\u2019s cruelty, they left her to the\npoverty of the cell, and returned themselves to the glory of the palace,\nwhere they recounted to the Marquesse the strangenesse of the businesse,\nand the manner of the accidents, and shee continued in her first\nmoderation and indefatigable patience, the poore father onely laughing\nto scorne the miseries and sodaine mutabilitie of humane condition, and\ncomforting his daughter in her well-begun courses of modesty and\nreposednesse.\n\nNot long after approched the Countesse of Paniche, or, if you will,\nDuchesse of Bologna, with her glorious company and beautifull lady,\nsending word before hand that she would be at Saluss such a day:\nwhereupon the Marquesse sent a troope to welcome her, and prepared the\ncourt for her intertainment; the bruit of which yet had not so equall a\npassage, but divers contrarious opinions thus bandied themselves; some\nabsolutely condemnied the inconstancie of the lord, others deplored the\nmisfortune of the lady, some repined to see a man so cruell against so\ngreat worthinesse, others exemplified her praises to all eternitie; some\nwere transported with the gallant youth and comelinesse of this new\nbewtifull virgine, others presumed to parallell the faire Grisel, but\nthat shee had stepped a little before her in yeeres; some harped upon\nher great nobilitie and high lineage, others compared the former wife\u2019s\nvertue and true wisdome; some excused their lord, by the love to his\ncountrey, others excused the lady by the nature of the adversitie,\nuntill the approach of the faire virgine and the young noble man in her\ncompany extinguished all former conceits, and set them to a new worke,\nconcerning this spectacle, wherein the young lady and her brave brother\nhad such pre-eminence. Nor knewe the Earle of Paniche himselfe, or any\nof the company on either side, that they were his owne children by\nGrisel, but meerly strangers, and designed for this new mariage. So the\ngreat Marquesse made good semblance, and with his accustomed\ncourtlinesse welcomed them all to the palace.\n\nThe very next morning (or, if you will, the day before), he sent a\nmessenger for Grisel to come unto him in the very same manner as shee\nwas; who protracted no time, but presently attended her lord: at her\napproach he was somewhat appalled, but yet setting (as wee say) the best\nfoot forward, hee thus proceeded:\n\nThe lady, Grisel, with whom I must marrie, will bee here to-morrow by\nthis time, and the feast is prepared accordingly: now, because there is\nnone so well acquainted with the secrets of my palace, and disposition\nof my selfe as you, I would have you, for all this base attire, addresse\nyour wisdome to the ordering of the businesse, appointing such officers\nas is befitting, and disposing the roomes according to the degrees and\nestate of the persons. Let the lady have the priviledge of the mariage\nchamber, and the young lord the pleasure of the gallery: let the rest be\nlodged in the courts, and the better sort upon the sides of the garden:\nlet the viands be plentifull, and the ceremonies maintained: let the\nshowes bee sumptuous, and the pastimes as it becommeth; in a word, let\nnothing be wanting, which may set forth my honour, and delight the\npeople.\n\nMy lord, saith shee, I ever told you I took pleasure in nothing but your\ncontentment, and whatsoever might consort to your delight, therein\nconsisted my joy and happinesse: therefore, make no question of my\ndiligence and duty in this, or any other thing which it shal please you\nto impose upon me. And so like a poore servant shee presently addressed\nherselfe to the businesse of the house, performing all things with such\na quicknes and grace that each one wondred at her goodnesse and faire\ndemeanour, and many murmured to see her put to such a triall. But the\nday of entertainement is now comme, and when the faire lady approached,\nher very presence had almost extinguished the impression of Grisels\nworthinesse; for some inconstant humourists gave way to the alteration,\nnot blaming the Marquesse for such a change. But when the strangers were\nmade acquainted with the fortune of Grisel, and saw her faire demeanour,\nthey could not but esteeme her a woman of great vertue and honour, being\nmore amased at her patience then at the mutability of mans conditions;\ntill at last shee approached the lady, and taking her by the hand, used\nthis speech.\n\nLady, if it were not his pleasure, that may command to bid you welcome,\nyet me thinks there is a kinde of over-ruling grace from nature in you,\nthat must exact a respect unto you. And as for you, yong lord, I can say\nno more, but if I might have my desires satisfied in this world, they\nshould be imploied to wish you well, and to endeavour all things for\nyour entertainement indeed. To the rest I afford what is befitting,\ndesiring them, that if any deficiency abate their expectation, they\nwould impute it either to my ignorance, or negligence; for it is the\npleasure of him, in whose will is all my pleasure, that in all\nsufficiency you should have regard and suppliment. And so shee conducted\nthem to their severall chambers, where they reposed themselves awhile,\ntill the time of dinner invited them to repast. When all things were\nprepared, and the solemnity of placing the guests finished, the\nMarquesse sent for Grisel, and rising on his feet, took her by the hand\nbefore them all, erecting his body, and elating his voice in this\nmanner: You see the lady is heere I meane to marry, and the company\ngloriously prepared to witnes the same; are you therefore contented that\nI shall thus dispose of my selfe, and do quietly yeeld to the\nalteration?\n\nMy lord, replied she before them all, wherein as a woman I might be\nfaulty, I will not now dispute; but because I am your wife, and have\ndevoted my selfe to obedience, I am resolved to delight in nothing but\nyour pleasure; so that if this match be designed for your good, and\ndetermined by your appointment, I am much satisfied, and more then much\ncontented. And for you, lady, I wish you the delights of your marriage\nand the honour of your husband, many yeares of happinesse, and the\nfruits of a chaste wedlock: only, gracious lord, take heed of one thing;\nthat you trie not this new bride as you have done your ould wife; for\nshe is yong, and peradventure of another straine, and so may want of\nthat patience and government which I, poore I, have endured.\n\nTill this he held out bravely; but nature overcomming resolution, and\nconsidering with what strange variety his unkindnesse had passed, hee\ncould not answere a word for teares, and all the company stood\nconfounded at the matter, wondring what would be the end of the\nbusinesse, and the successe of the extasie. But to draw them out of\ntheir doubts, the next chapter shall determine the controversie.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                                CHAP. X.\n   The oration of the Marquesse to his wife, and the discovery of her\n  children, to her great joy, and the contentment of all the company.\n\n\nAfter a little reducement of his passion, and that time and further\nmeditation had disposed his senses to their perfect estate, the\nMarquesse graciously answered:\u2014\n\nThou wonder of women, and champion of true vertue! I am ashamed of my\nimperfections, and tyred with abusing thee. I have tryed thee beyond\nreason, and thou hast forborne mee beyond modestie: beleeve it,\ntherefore, I will have no wife but thy selfe, and when God hath thought\nthee too good for the earth, I will (if it bee not too much\nsuperstition) pray to thee in heaven. Oh! \u2019tis a pleasure to be\nacquainted with thy worth, and to come neere thy goodnes maketh a man\nbetter than himselfe. For without controversie, except thou hadst beene\nsent from above, thou couldst never have acted a goddesses part belowe:\nand therefore, seeing I have used thee so unkindly heeretofore, I\nprotest never to disquiet thee heereafter: and wherein my cruelty\nextended against thee in bereaving thee of thy children, my love shall\nnow make amends in restoring thy daughter. For this new bride is shee;\nand this wanton her brother. Thank this great lady (my sister) for their\nbringing up, and this man (you knowe him well enough) for his secrecy.\nBee not amased at the matter: I have related a truth, and will confirme\nit on my honour; only sit downe till the dinner is done, and bid the\ncompany welcome in this poore attire; for the sun will break through\nslender clouds, and vertue shine in base array. I could much dilate the\nmatter, but it is time to end, lest the circumstances will never end.\n\nThis device of the Marquesses, of kissing her so lovingly, and setting\nher downe by him so discreetly, did much good; for the company had time\nto dispute of the miracle, and the yong lady reason to prepare her\nobedience; which, no sooner was the dinner finished, but shee as soone\nperformed, nothing thought upon but joy at the matter, and wonder at the\naccident; every one pleased to see such a unity of goodnes, and all\ndelighted to have a businesse so well concluded. But seeing time had\nunclasped a booke of such jollity, there was now no further disputing,\nfor the ladies flocked about her to attend her into the chamber, where\nthe yong princesse her daughter was as ready as the best to apparell\nher, so that when shee came amongst them againe she shined like the sun\nafter a tempest, and seemed more glorious, because her continued modesty\nkept her from all insulting and vaine-glorious bravery.\n\nThus was the Marquesse invested, as it were, with a new blessednes, and\nshe continued in her ould constancy; onely admired by every one for her\npatience and sufferings, and all aplauding their reconcilement, blessing\nher, and the people proud they had such a lord to obey: especially\nsatisfied when the poore Janicola was advanced to the councell, and made\ngovernor of his palace; wherein hee behaved himselfe so well that for\nten yeares hee still lived as he had beene bred, a courtier, and died\nwith the memory of a good report. Grisel lasted thirty yeares after him,\nand all went to their graves in good time, the country renowned over the\nworld for their admirable government, and famosed for their\nextraordinary wonder.\n\n_Non est ulla difficultas (ut ita dicam) neque passio, neque calamitas\ndira, cujus non sufferre queat pondus hominis natura._\u2014Euripides\nOrestei.\n\n\n                                 FINIS.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n                          TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\n 1. \u201cChap. IX\u201d and \u201cChap. VIII\u201d are apparently out of order. Did not\n      correct.\n 2. Silently corrected typographical errors.\n 3. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as\n      printed.\n 4. Footnotes have been re-indexed using numbers.\n 5. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.","title":"The History of Patient Grisel, 1619","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":13401}