This noble youth, thy well-beloved son. And cast unto the wolves, nor yet complain, Griselda, thou hast done; therefore to me Dearer thou art than all the world beside; And once more I do greet thee here before Th' assembled burghers of this city fair The partner of my crown, my bed, my life. And here in token of my words, I vow, This day unto the very end of time Hallowed shall be through all my wide domains; And thou, Griselda, saint and wife in one, Shalt stand in marble in our city's streets, Patient Griselda, 1air, and good, and great. Much have I wronged thee; but 'tis thine to cast A tender eye, forgiving all that wrong. And is Griselda but a thrice-told tale? And can we read no lesson in her life? Yes, such a thing there lives as biding faith, Undoubting and unswerving loyalty, In wedded love, yes, and in friendship too. In every sufferer in the sacred cause Suffereth, endureth, beareth," to the end. |