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STORIES FROM OLD ENGLISH POETRY.

ran from the room with the screaming infants, his own face drenched with weeping. When the Duke heard of all this, though it did not move him from his obstinacy of purpose, he yet grieved in secret, and wondered if Griselda’s love could outlast this trial.

The twin babes, torn so rudely from 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 eyes told