In echoing answer of their terza-rhyme—

rhyme—

'Twill seem, I say, to some impossible

That all this was not love. Yet, sooth to tell,

Easter had come and gone, and yet 'twas true

No word of love had passed between the two.

The fact is, after the first halcyon hour

When she had met the Prince and proved his power

To move her inmost soul, Griselda made

This compact with her heart no less than head,

Being a woman of much logic sense,

And knowing all, at least by inference:

She was resolved that, come what evil might

On her poor heart, the right should still be right,

And not a hair's-breadth would she swerve from this,

Though it should cost her soul its happiness.

She would not trifle longer, nor provide

The Prince with pretext for his further pride,

44

Or grant more favour than a friendship given

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