his father would walk before mine. He has long wooed and
loved me; but you, madam, who have never forgiven me the smallest fault
nor praised me for any good deed, you--although you knew from experience
that I was not wont to speak of love or worldly things, and that I led a
more retired and religious life than any other of your maids--forthwith
deemed it strange that I should speak with a gentleman who is as
unfortunate in this life as I am myself, and one, moreover, in whose
friendship I thought and looked to have nothing save comfort to my soul.
When I found myself wholly baffled in this design, I fell into great
despair, and resolved to seek my peace as earnestly as you longed to rob
me of it; whereupon we exchanged words of marriage, and confirmed them
with promise and ring. Wherefore, madam, methinks you do me a grievous
wrong in calling me wicked, seeing that in this great and perfect love,
wherein opportunity, had I so desired, would not have been lacking, no
greater familiarity has passed between us than a kiss. I have waited in
the hope that, before the consummation of the marriage, I might by the
grace of God win my father's heart to consent to it. I have given no
offence to God or to my conscience, for I have waited till the age of
thirty to see what you and my father would do for me, and have kept my
youth in such chastity and virtue that no living man can bring up aught
against me. But when I found that I was old and without hope of being
wedded suitably to my birth and condition, I used the reason that God
has given me, and resolved to marry a gentleman after my own heart. And
this I did not to gratify the lust of the eye, for you know that he is
not handsome; nor the lust of the flesh, for there has been no carnal
consummation of our marriage; nor the ambition and pride of life, for he
is poor and of small rank; but I took account purely and simply of the
worth that is in him, for which every one is constrained to praise him,
and also of the great love that he bears me, and that gives me hope
of having a life of quietness and kindness with him. Having carefully
weighed all the good and the evil that may come of it, I have done what
seems to me best, and, after considering the matter in my heart for two
years, I am resolved to pass the remainder of my days with him. And so
firm is my resolve that no torment that may be inflicted upon me, nor
even death itself, shall ever cause me to depart from it. Wherefore,