disposed to think, out of his character.
He has related, after Petrarch, the story of patient Griseldis, with
beautiful earnestness and simplicity. He has conducted her through all the
trials which the high-born lord thought good to lay upon the low-born
wife, has displayed and rewarded her inimitable "wifly pacience," and then
confesses, that not being imitable, neither is it intended that it should
be imitated. In short, he "stints of ernestful matere;" and to "gladen"
his audience, ends with "saying them a song," in six quaintly-rhymed
stanzas, in which he counsels the wives to stand upon the defensive
against their husbands, and take all natural care of themselves--

"Be ay of chere as light as lefe on linde,
And let _him_ care, and wepe, and wringe, and wail."

The ironical counsel does not belie the moral of the story; but it comes
unexpectedly from him whom the Hoste has called upon for his tale, with
remarking, that he "rides as still and coy as a maid newly espoused sits
at her bord."

The Franklin has at home a graceless cub and heir of his own. If good
living were one and the same thing with holy living, this should the less
easily have happened. The Franklin is wonderfully captivated with our
young Squire's breeding, grace, and eloquence. The contrast brings his own
"burdane" painfully into his mind, and wrings from him a mortified
exclamation. The old man, with his sanguine complexion, and his beard

"White as is the dayesie,"

has--notwithstanding the sharp censorship which he exercises over his
cook--a heart in his bosom. The pleasure with which he has heard the
Squire, vouches as much; and more decisively so does the story, which he
himself tells from the old Breton lays; another story of a virtuous wife,
strangely tried, of all the three the most strangely. Her husband, a
knight, is on a voyage, and she takes a horror of the perilous rocks that
edge their own shore. Meanwhile, a youthful squire pursues her with love.
One day, in a mockery, she promises to grant him his suit if he will
remove all the rocks in a morning. After some perplexity of thought he
resorts to an able magician at Orleans; who, for the consideration of a
thousand pounds, undertakes, and accomplished the feat. Who is now hard
bestead, but the lady? She, in her strait, consults her husband, who has
returned; and the honourable husband says--you must keep your word. The
squire comes for his guerdon. "My husband says that I m