The marquis dismounted from his horse and walked over to her. She did not dare look up at him. He gazed at her thoughtfully, and then in an earnest manner began to speak to her. ‘Where is your father, Griselda?’

‘He is here, sir. Inside the cottage.’

‘Will you fetch him for me?’

So she rose to her feet and entered the cottage. When she brought out her father the marquis shook his hand and led him aside. ‘Janiculus,’ he said, ‘I can’t conceal my feelings any longer. I love your daughter and wish to marry her. If you give your permission to the match, I promise to love her and live with her until the day of my death.

‘I know that you love me in turn and that you are my faithful subject. I am your liege lord. Whatever pleases me, I think, will also please you. Am I right? And, as I said, there is one thing that will please me more than anything else. Will you allow me to become your son-in-law?’

The old man was so astounded that his face turned scarlet. He was trembling, he was so nervous that he could hardly get the words out. Finally he managed to stammer an answer. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘please do whatever you like. I will agree to anything, so long as it pleases you. Anything at all.’

‘Wait a moment, I think you and me, and Griselda, should have a conversation.’ The marquis spoke very softly and politely. ‘Don’t you agree? I would like to ask her if she is willing to become my wife and to obey my wishes as her lawful husband. I want to talk to her in your presence. I will say nothing out of your hearing.’

So the three of them entered the cottage and began their discussion. I will tell you about that later. Meanwhile all manner of people began to gather outside the cottage, commenting loudly on how neat and clean it looked. Griselda herself was almost overcome with astonishment, as well she might, at the turn of events.

She had never seen before such lords and ladies, and such knights in gleaming armour. She had never experienced such magnificence. And to have the marquis sitting beside her – well, she had gone quite pale. Now I will tell you what the marquis said to this paragon, this cynosure, this true heart. Enough of that. These are his actual words.

‘Griselda,’ he said, ‘you should know that your father and I have come to an understanding. We have agreed that you will be my bride and lawful wife. I don’t suppose that you have any objection? But let me ask you this first. This is all being done at great speed, I admit. So I want to know whether you are happy to go along with it. Or do you want time to consider the matter further?

‘I have another question. Are you willing to be ruled by me in everything, according to my pleasure? Will you remain true to me, whether I treat you for better or for worse? You must never complain. You must never contradict me with a “no” rather than a “yes”. You must never frown or show any sign of displeasure. If you swear all this, I will swear to marry you.’

Griselda was afraid, and wondered at the meaning of his words. ‘My lord,’ she replied, ‘I am unworthy of the honour you wish to pay to me. But if this is truly your will, then I will gladly accede to it. I swear to you now, in front of my father, that I will never disobey you in word or deed. I swear this on my life, even though life is dear to me.’

‘You have said enough, Griselda. You will be mine.’ He came out of the cottage, looking very grave, and Griselda followed him. As they stood together, the marquis addressed the crowd that had gathered there. ‘Here is my wife,’ he said. ‘Honour her and love her, as you love and honour me. There is no more to say.’

He did not want anything from her old life to be brought into the palace, and so he ordered his ladies to undress her there and then. These ladies were reluctant to touch the scraps and tatters on her back, but they were obliged to obey orders even if they risked getting their hands dirty. Off came the rags. On came the new garments. And there was Griselda, radiant and resplendent in her natural beauty.

They combed hair that had hardly ever seen a comb before. They put a crown upon her head. They pinned on her brooches and precious jewels. What else can I say about her appearance? She had become so ornate and regal that she was scarcely recognizable.

Then the marquis gave her a ring especially bought for the occasion as a token of their union. He set her upon a snow-white palfrey, and with gentle pace they rode to the palace. They were greeted by well-wishers along the route and, after their arrival, they attended a great feast that continued until sunset.

I will not go on and on about her beauty and her virtue. It suffices to say that she had such natural grace that it did not seem possible that she had been brought up in poverty. She could not have come from a cottage or an ox-stall. She must have been educated in an emperor’s palace!

Even the people who had come from the same village, and had seen her growing from year to year, could hardly believe that this was Griselda, the daughter of Janiculus. They could have sworn that this was a completely different person.

She was as virtuous as she had always been, but in her new eminence her virtues shone all the brighter. She was as fair as she was eloquent, as mild as she was bountiful. She became the princess of all the people. Whoever looked upon her, loved her.

So the fame of Griselda spread throughout the region of Saluzzo and was then conveyed further abroad; her virtues became known far and wide, and from all parts of Italy flocked men and women, young and old, to see her.

So Walter, the marquis, had not married one of low degree at all. He seemed to have married a noble woman, and he was so fortunate in his union that he lived at peace with himself and all others. He was highly regarded, too. He had proved that outward poverty may conceal virtue as well as grace. So the people deemed him to be a prudent man, a rare gift in one so favoured by Fortune.

Griselda’s virtue was not confined to household tasks and duties. Far from it. When the occasion demanded it, she was able to nurture the common good and the welfare of the ordinary people. She could resolve any argument, appease any bitterness, and heal any division. She was the agent of peace and unity.

Even when her husband was abroad on business she could conciliate enemies and rivals, whether they were noble or otherwise. Her words were wise and succinct. Her judgements were models of equity. It was said that she had been sent by heaven to save the world and to amend all wrongs.

Then, nine months after her marriage, Griselda bore a child. Everyone had secretly wished for a male child, but in fact she gave birth to a daughter. Still the marquis was happy, and the people rejoiced with him. Even though a daughter had come first there was every reason to believe that in time she would bear a son. She was not barren, after all.