om their mother, were sent to a noble
sister of the duke, who dwelt in Pavia; but no word was told to
Griselda of their fate; and she, poor mother, submissive to her
husband's will, because she believed it supreme, like God's, dared not
ask after them, lest she should hear that they were slain.

When the duke saw how Griselda had no reproaches, nothing but grief, to
oppose to his will, even his jealousy was forced to confess that her
faith had stood the test. Whenever he looked on her, her gentle
patience moved his heart to pity, and many times he half repented his
cruelty.

Month after month, and year after year went by, and again and again did
this demon of suspicion stir the duke to some trial of his wife's
obedience and patience. He drove out the aged Janiculo from the
comfortable lodgment in the palace in which Griselda had bestowed him,
and forced him to return to the hut where he had lived before his
daughter's greatness. And though Griselda's paling face and sad eye
told her sorrow, she uttered no word of complaint or anger against the
duke.

"Is he not my liege lord?" she said to her own heart, when it sometimes
rose in bitter complainings, "and did I not swear to obey his will in
all things?"

At last the day came when they had been wedded twelve years. Long ago
had Griselda won the hearts of the people by her gentle manners, her
sweet, sad face, her patient ways. If Walter's heart had not been made
of senseless stone, he would now have been content. But in his
scheming brain he had conceived one final test, one trial more, from
which, if Griselda's patience came out unmoved, it would place her as
the pearl of women, high above compare.

On this wedding morn, then, he came into her bower, and in cold speech,
thus spoke to her,--"Griselda, thou must have guessed that for many
years I have bewailed the caprice which led me to take thee, low-born,
and rude in manners, as my wife. At last my people's discontent, and
my own heart, have told me that I must take a bride who can share fitly
my state, and bring me a noble heir. Even now from Pavia, my sister's
court, my young bride, surpassing beautiful, is on her way hither.
Canst though be content to go back to thy father, and leave me free to
marry her?"

"My dear lord," answered Griselda, meekly, "in all things I have kept
my vow. I should have been most happy if love for me had brought thy
heart to forget my low station. But in all things I am co