She had not been long with Gualtieri before she conceived; and in due time she was delivered of a girl; whereat Gualtieri made great cheer.  But, soon after, a strange humour took possession of him, to wit, to put her patience to the proof by prolonged and intolerable hard usage; wherefore he began by afflicting her with his gibes, putting on a vexed air, and telling her that his vassals were most sorely dissatisfied with her by reason of her base condition, and all the more so since they saw that she was a mother, and that they did nought but most ruefully murmur at the birth of a daughter.  Whereto Griselda, without the least change of countenance or sign of discomposure, made answer:—­“My lord, do with me as thou mayst deem best for thine own honour and comfort, for well I wot that I am of less account than they, and unworthy of this honourable estate to which of thy courtesy thou hast advanced me.”  By which answer Gualtieri was well pleased, witting that she was in no degree puffed up with pride by his, or any other’s, honourable entreatment of her.  A while afterwards, having in general terms given his wife to understand that the vassals could not endure her daughter, he sent her a message by a servant.  So the servant came, and:—­“Madam,” quoth he with a most dolorous mien, “so I value my life, I must needs do my lord’s bidding.  He has bidden me take your daughter and...”  He said no more, but the lady by what she heard, and read in his face, and remembered of her husband’s words, understood that he was bidden to put the child to death.  Whereupon she presently took the child from the cradle, and having kissed and blessed her, albeit she was very sore at heart, she changed not countenance, but placed it in the servant’s arms, saying:—­“See that thou leave nought undone that my lord and thine has charged thee to do, but leave her not so that the beasts and the birds devour her, unless he have so bidden thee.”  So the servant took the child, and told Gualtieri what the lady had said; and Gualtieri, marvelling at her constancy, sent him with the child to Bologna, to one of his kinswomen, whom he besought to rear and educate the child with all care, but never to let it be known whose child she was.

Soon after it befell that the lady again conceived, and in due time was delivered of a son, whereat Gualtieri was overjoyed.  But, not content with what he had done, he now even more poignantly afflicted the lady; and one day with a ruffled mien:—­“Wife,” quoth he, “since thou gavest birth to this boy, I may on no wise live in peace with my vassals, so bitterly do they reproach me that a grandson of Giannucolo is to succeed me as their lord; and therefore I fear that, so I be not minded to be sent a packing hence, I must even do herein as I did before, and in the end put thee away, and take another wife.”  The lady heard him patiently, and answered only:—­“My lord, study how thou mayst content thee and best please thyself, and waste no thought upon me, for there is