Page:Stories from Old English Poetry-1899.djvu/69

Rh “Look up, Janiculo,” said the Duke, graciously. “You have heard, perhaps, that today is my wedding-day. With your good-will, I propose to take to wife your daughter Griselda. Will you give her to me in marriage?”

If a thunder-bolt had struck the earth at old Janiculo’s feet, he could not have been more stunned. He gazed at the earth, the sky, and into his lord’s face, who had to repeat his question three times, before the old man could speak.

“I crave your lordship’s pardon,” he stammered, at length. ‘It is not for me to give anything to your lordship. All that is in your kingdom belongs to yourself. And my daughter is only a part of your kingdom.” And when he had said this, he did not know whether he were dreaming or awake.

Griselda had modestly stayed in-doors; but now they called her out, and told her she was to be the Duke’s bride. All amazed, she suffered them to mount her on the snow-white steed, and lead her beside the Duke, to the royal palace. All along the road the people had gathered, and shouts rent the air; and at the palace gates the horses’ feet sank to the fetlocks in roses, which had been strewn in their pathway. Everywhere the people’s joy burst bounds, that now their prince had taken a bride. As for Griselda, she rode along, still clad in her russet gown, her