Griselda : A Tragedy : And other poems By Edwin Arnold |
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| 3. | SCENE III. |
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 | Griselda : A Tragedy : And other poems |  |
157
SCENE III.
Janicola's Cottage.Janicola stooping over the embers of a fire. Enter Griselda, who walks to the press, and takes from its place her old gown and kirtle, stoops over her father and kisses him on the cheek; and then takes the herbs that are beside him and finishes the preparation of his meal. She places it before him, while he looks fixedly on her. Then she fetches her spinning-wheel, and, sitting down, begins to spin. Janicola at last speaks slowly.
If thou art come from heaven,—a white angel,
To stead me so, why thou art come in time.
I am nigh gone with age, and lack of sight
Of my scorned daughter; but if thou art she
These should be silks,—or is it all not so,
And no years gone?
158
Sir, there are twelve years gone
Since I did tend thee here, and I am come
To tend thee here again.
JANICOLA.
Hath not one else
A right to that and thee?
GRISELDA.
Not now.
JANICOLA.
Why, girl?
GRISELDA.
My lord doth wed again.
JANICOLA.
Wedded, and wed!
159
Is't not enough that he hath slain thy brats?
Give me my arblast! Oh, these old grey hairs!
I looked for this all the gay tinselled time;
But he shall answer it.
GRISELDA.
Dear father, patience!
JANICOLA.
For him!
GRISELDA.
For me! thou shalt know all anon.
Now take thy sleep as thou wert wont; we've time
To weep beside to-day: why I could dream
That all was dreaming, and that long ago
Was now, and this same thread, the thread I spun
My wedding-morning, and the song I sang
Fit to sing now. I'll try,—rest thee, dear head?
Now take thy sleep as thou wert wont; we've time
To weep beside to-day: why I could dream
That all was dreaming, and that long ago
Was now, and this same thread, the thread I spun
My wedding-morning, and the song I sang
Fit to sing now. I'll try,—rest thee, dear head?
160
On a mountain
Rose a fountain,
Sweet and quiet, and crystal clear to see,
Till it bubbled,
Sorely troubled,
And a merry, roving streamlet longed to be.
Rose a fountain,
Sweet and quiet, and crystal clear to see,
Till it bubbled,
Sorely troubled,
And a merry, roving streamlet longed to be.
So a splashing,
And madly dashing,
Over the rocks it ran afar from home;
And sought ever
To be a river,
The farther and the faster it did roam.
And madly dashing,
Over the rocks it ran afar from home;
And sought ever
To be a river,
The farther and the faster it did roam.
All the daughters
Of the waters
Their brimming urns of willing ripples lent;
And away then,
With wave and spray then,
Longing to grow a sea, the wanderer went.
Of the waters
Their brimming urns of willing ripples lent;
And away then,
With wave and spray then,
Longing to grow a sea, the wanderer went.
161
Ah! the pity,
To end a ditty
With alack-a-day! and with a sad alas!
But the river
Was gone for ever,
When out into the salt sea it did pass.
To end a ditty
With alack-a-day! and with a sad alas!
But the river
Was gone for ever,
When out into the salt sea it did pass.
[She rises and stands watching Janicola, while the scene closes.
| Griselda : A Tragedy : And other poems | |