The clerk replied with full courtesy, "My host, I am at your service. You are our governor, and certainly I would pay my best obedience to you. I will tell you a story that I once heard at Padua from a worthy clerk named Francis Petrarch. He is dead now. God grant peace to his soul."
the western part of Italy there is a broad, sunny plain, rich and fertile, and scattered over it are many ancient towns whose towers were founded in the days of our ancestors. A certain marquis named Walter was ruler of this land, as his forefathers had been before him. He was honest and courteous, and he ruled his country well. His people feared him and obeyed him, but they loved him, too, and they dreaded to have the time come when he would no longer be their lord. They wished most earnestly that he would marry. "If he only had a son," they said, "who would follow in his father's footsteps, we should feel at rest"; but the Marquis showed no wish to marry. He was young and strong and was enjoying himself so much with his hunting and hawking and other pleasures that he was inclined to let matters slide, and come what might, he would not take a wife.The people talked the question over, and at length one of the wisest among them said, "Let us go to the Marquis and tell him humbly how much we honor him and love him and how it would grieve us if his line should fail and some stranger come to take the rule over us."
This was agreed to, and soon a number of the Marquis's subjects went to see him. One man to whom he had shown special favor acted as spokesman. He told his lord how the people felt, and begged him earnestly, though with all meekness, that he would permit them to choose him a wife from among the noblest of the land.
The Marquis could not help being touched by the faithfulness of his people in their love for him, and he promised to take a wife. Then he said to them, "I had never thought of being married, but now that I am giving up my freedom at your request, I ask something of you in return. I will choose a wife for myself wherever my heart may be set—you need not be burdened with that charge—and I ask you to swear to me most solemnly that, whatever wife I may select, you will neither carp nor cavil at my choice. And, furthermore, I must also have your sworn promise that, whoever she may be, you will show her the reverence and respect which you would show to the daughter of an emperor, and that this shall never fail so long as her life shall endure."
The people were ready enough to take the oath; but even then they were afraid that month after month would slip by and the Marquis would still delay his marriage; therefore they knelt before him even more humbly and begged that he would of his great goodness add to the kindness he had already shown them by setting a day for his wedding. The Marquis named a day, and promised that without fail he would take to himself a wife when that time should come. The people thanked him over and over again, and then went joyfully to their homes, while the Marquis sent for his officers and bade them see to it that on that day a noble wedding feast should be made ready.
Not far from the splendid palace of the Marquis there was a little village where only poor folk lived. The poorest of them all was a man named Janicula; but he was rich in one respect, for he had a fair young daughter named Griselda. She was not only beautiful, but she was industrious and good, and she did everything in her power to help her poor old father. They had a few sheep, and when she went out to watch them, she always carried her distaff with her that she might spin as she watched. On her way home she gathered roots and herbs to cook for their frugal meals; and in everything she gave her father loving care and reverence and honor.
The Marquis had often noticed this young girl as he was on his way to the hunt. He saw how womanly she was, and he noted what the people in the village said of her goodness. He often thought of her face, not only beautiful but pure and strong and true, and he had resolved that if ever he married any one, this young girl should be his wife.
Day after day passed. Lavish preparations for the wedding were going on at the palace. The country had been scoured for dainty viands, the whole house had been put in order and arranged as handsomely as a house may be. The Marquis had sent his messengers to other lands for gems whereof to make rings and brooches and necklaces and bracelets. He lead even had many rich and costly garments made to the measure of one of the court ladies who was much the height and figure of the humble village maiden.
The wedding day had come, but even then no one knew who was to be the bride; and the people began to wonder secretly whether after all the Marquis was only making fools of them. The lords and ladies had come to the wedding. The Marquis in his richest array came forward to give them greeting. "But before we seat ourselves at the feast," he said, "we will ride a little way to the small village near at hand."
So all the splendid assembly set out for the little village, wondering and wondering what wild whim the Marquis had in his mind. It was a brilliant company, and as they rode along the way was bright with velvet and satin and cloth of gold, with rubies and emeralds and diamonds and all the other beautiful adornments that the wedding guests had provided to do honor to the Marquis and the high-born maiden whom he would of course choose for his bride.
Not only the people who lived in great houses were interested in the marriage, but also the folk of every tiny hamlet, and naturally the maiden Griselda. When she heard that the Marquis and his guests were on their way, she hurried to finish her morning's work, so that she would have time to stand in the doorway with the other young girls and see the new Marchioness, if the wedding party should chance to return that way. She was just bringing a waterpot of water from the well when the Marquis called, "Griselda." She set down the waterpot and fell upon her knees before him to hear what his will might be. "Griselda," he said, "where is your father?"
She replied humbly, "Lord, he is here"; then went into the cottage and brought her father out.
The Marquis dismounted and left the glittering rout. He took the old man's hand and led him to one side. "Janicula," he said, "I can no longer hide the wish of my heart. If you will grant me leave, I will take your daughter for my wife before I go from this place, and mine she shall be so long as her life shall endure. I know well that you love me and have been my faithful liegeman all your days. Tell me, then, are you willing to take me as your son-in-law?"
It is no wonder that Janicula was so amazed that he turned first red, then white, and then stood silent and trembling. At last he spoke, but in so low a voice that the Marquis could barely hear him say, "Whatever you will, I will. You are my lord; do in this matter according to your pleasure."
"My will is, then," said the Marquis gently, "that I and you and she confer together in your house in order that you may hear all that is said. I will ask her in your presence if she is willing to become my wife and to obey my wish in all things."
The humble village maiden was not used to so lordly a guest, and it is small wonder that her face was pale. The Marquis took her by the hand and said, "Griselda, I wish to take you for my bride. This will be pleasing to your father, and, I suppose, to you; but first I want your free answer to what I ask. If you become my wife, do you promise to do my will and never grumble, whether I give you pleasure or pain? Do you promise that when I say yes, you will never say no, either by words or by a frown? Swear this, and here I swear to take you for my wife."
Griselda was trembling with fear and wonder, but she answered, "Lord, I am not worthy of such an honor; but if this is your will, it is also mine. I swear that I will die rather than willingly disobey you in deed or in thought."
"Enough, my Griselda," said the Marquis. He passed out of the door, the maiden following him with modest, downcast face, and there they stood in full view of the noble company of guests. While the guests gazed and wondered, and, turning aside, smiled scornfully, he said in a loud, clear voice, "This maiden is to be my wife. If any one claims to honor me and love me, let him honor her and love her. There is no more to be said about it."
Then the beautiful new robes were brought out that the Marquis had had made, and the haughty court ladies had to go into the tiny cottage and dress the humble village maiden in the velvets and satins. They combed and braided her hair and set a crown upon her head and loaded her with jewels rich and rare. Then they led her out before the people; and her beauty was so brought out by all this brilliant attire that even the folk of her own village almost doubted that this was she.
The Marquis wedded her with a ring that he had brought with him, and set her upon a snow-white horse, and they rode on to the castle. The retinue grew longer all the way, for the story of the marriage had gone before them, and the people of every little village through which they passed turned out to do honor to the child of their own people who had now become their Marchioness. When the company reached the palace, the feasting began, and the revels lasted till the very setting of the sun.
To make a long story short, God gave such grace to the new Marchioness that no one who looked upon her would have fancied that she had grown up in a cottage, but rather in the palace of an emperor. Every one loved her and reverenced her, and even the people who had known her ever since she was born could hardly make themselves believe that she was the daughter of their simple, honest neighbor Janicula. The report of her great excellence spread not only through Saluces, but through other countries, and many people came long distances merely to look upon her face. Not only could she rule her house well, but if any trouble arose among the people of the land, she was so wise and so just that she always succeeded in bringing them to peace; and, indeed, more than one man declared that she had surely been sent from heaven to right every wrong. After a while a daughter was born to her, and then the palace was even happier than before. So it came to pass that the Marquis and his wife of humble birth lived together in peace and joy. "He could see goodness and prudence in a maid of low degree," said the people; "he is a wise man"; and they loved their lord more than ever.