Had left in hers, nor cared to understand.

From this day forth, I say, a tender mood

Possessed them both scarce conscious and unwooed,

Even in the Prince, her elder and a man.

At least Griselda had no thought nor plan

Beyond the pleasure of a friendship dear

To all alike, Lord L., the Prince, and her:

No plan but that the day would be more sweet,

More full of meaning, if they chanced to meet;

And this chanced every day. The Prince was kind

Beyond all kindness, and Lord L. could find

No words to speak his thanks he thus should be

The cicerone of their company.

40

And where a better? Belgirate's lore

In all things Roman was in truth a store

From which to steal. At her Gamaliel's knees

Griselda sat and learned Rome's mysteries

With all the zeal of a disciple young

And strange to genius and a pleading tongue.

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