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PAGE 22

The Canterbury Tales: The Clerk’s Tale
by [?]

“This is enough, Griselda mine,” quoth he,
“Be now no more *aghast, nor evil paid,* *afraid, nor displeased*
I have thy faith and thy benignity
As well as ever woman was, assay’d,
In great estate and poorely array’d:
Now know I, deare wife, thy steadfastness;”
And her in arms he took, and gan to kiss.

And she for wonder took of it no keep;* *notice
She hearde not what thing he to her said:
She far’d as she had start out of a sleep,
Till she out of her mazedness abraid.* *awoke
“Griseld’,” quoth he, “by God that for us died,
Thou art my wife, none other I have,
Nor ever had, as God my soule save.

“This is thy daughter, which thou hast suppos’d
To be my wife; that other faithfully
Shall be mine heir, as I have aye dispos’d;
Thou bare them of thy body truely:
At Bologna kept I them privily:
Take them again, for now may’st thou not say
That thou hast lorn* none of thy children tway. *lost

“And folk, that otherwise have said of me,
I warn them well, that I have done this deed
For no malice, nor for no cruelty,
But to assay in thee thy womanhead:
And not to slay my children (God forbid),
But for to keep them privily and still,
Till I thy purpose knew, and all thy will.”

When she this heard, in swoon adown she falleth
For piteous joy; and after her swooning,
She both her younge children to her calleth,
And in her armes piteously weeping
Embraced them, and tenderly kissing,
Full like a mother, with her salte tears
She bathed both their visage and their hairs.

O, what a piteous thing it was to see
Her swooning, and her humble voice to hear!
“Grand mercy, Lord, God thank it you,” quoth she,
That ye have saved me my children dear;
Now reck* I never to be dead right here; *care
Since I stand in your love, and in your grace,
No *force of* death, nor when my spirit pace.* *no matter for* *pass

“O tender, O dear, O young children mine,
Your woeful mother *weened steadfastly* *believed firmly*
That cruel houndes, or some foul vermine,
Had eaten you; but God of his mercy,
And your benigne father tenderly
Have *done you keep:”* and in that same stound* *caused you to
All suddenly she swapt** down to the ground. be preserved*
*hour **fell
And in her swoon so sadly* holdeth she *firmly
Her children two, when she gan them embrace,
That with great sleight* and great difficulty *art
The children from her arm they can arace,* *pull away
O! many a tear on many a piteous face
Down ran of them that stoode her beside,
Unneth’* aboute her might they abide. *scarcely