with more favour than even was your wont,
such great sorrow and such great anger took hold on me, that I could
not contain myself in the hall."
"Sweet friend," replied the Duke, "know that I shall never
believe--either from your lips or from those of any creature in the
world--that the story ever happened as you rehearsed it. I am so deep
in his counsel that he has my quittance, for I have full assurance
that he never dreamed of such a deed. But as to this you must ask of
me no more."
The Duke went straightway from the chamber, leaving the lady sunk in
thought. However long she had to live, never might she know an hour's
comfort, till she had learnt something of that secret of which the
Duke forbade her to seek further. No denial could now stand in her
way, for in her heart swiftly she devised a means to unriddle this
counsel, so only she might endure until the evening, and the Duke was
in her arms. She was persuaded that, beyond doubt, such solace would
win her wish more surely than wrath or tears. For this purpose she
held herself coy, and when the Duke came to lie at her side she betook
herself to the further side of the bed, making semblance that his
company gave her no pleasure. Well she knew that such show of anger
was the device to put her lord beneath her feet. Therefore she turned
her back upon him, that the Duke might the more easily be drawn by
the cords of her wrath. For this same reason when he had no more than
kissed her, she burst out,
"Right false and treacherous and disloyal are you to make such a
pretence of affection, who yet have never loved me truly one single
day. All these years of our wedded life I have been foolish enough to
believe, what you took such pains in the telling, that you loved
me with a loyal heart. To-day I see plainly that I was the more
deceived."
"In what are you deceived?" inquired the Duke.
"By my faith," cried she, who was sick of her desire, "you warn me
that I be not so bold as to ask aught of that of which you know the
secret."
"In God's name, sweet wife, of what would you know?"
"Of all that he has told you, the lies and the follies he has put in
your mind, and led you to believe. But it matters little now whether I
hear it or not, for I remember how small is my gain in being your true
and loving wife. For good or for ill I have shown you all my counsel.
There was nothing that was known and seen of my heart that you were
not told at once; and of your cour
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