Nevertheless, as the source of his distemper was known to them, they determined to seek the cure, and so repaired to her who was the cause of his sudden devoutness. She was greatly astonished and grieved by this mischance, for, in refusing for a time, she had thought only to test his affection, not to lose it for ever. Seeing now the evident risk that she ran of doing this last, she sent him a letter, which, ill-translated, was as follows:—
“Since love, if
tested not full needfully,
Steadfast and faithful
is not shown to be,
By length of time my
heart would that assay
Whereon itself was set
to love alway—
To wit, a husband with
that true love filled
Such as no lapsing time
has ever killed.
This, then, was the
sole reason that I drew
My kin to hinder for
a year or two
That closest tie which
lasts till life is not,
And whereby woe is oftentimes
begot.
Yet sought I not to
have you wholly sent
Away; such was in no
wise my intent,
For none save you could
I have e’er adored
Or looked to as my husband
and my lord.
But woe is me, what
tidings reach mine ear!
That you, to lead the
cloistered life austere,
Are gone with speech
to none; whereat the pain
That ever holds me,
now can brook no rein,
But forces me mine own
estate to slight
For that which yours
aforetime was of right;
To seek him out who
once sought me alone,
And win him who myself
has sometimes won.
Nay then, my love, life
of the life in me,
For loss of whom I fain
would cease to be,
Turn hither, graciously,
those eyes of pain
And trace those wandering
footsteps back again.
Leave the grey robe
and its austerity,
Come back and taste
of that felicity
Which often you desired,
and which to-day
Time has nor slain,
nor swept away.
For you alone I’ve
kept myself; and I,
Lacking your presence,
cannot choose but die.
Come back then; in your
sweetheart have belief,
And for past memories
find cool relief
In holy marriage-ties.
Ah! then, my dear,
To me, not to your pride
give ready ear,
And rest of this assured,
I had no thought
To give, sweetheart,
to you offence in aught,
But only yearned your
faithfulness to prove
And then to make you
happy with my love.
But now that through
this trial, free from scathe,
Are come your steadfastness
and patient faith,
And all that loyal love
to me is known,
Which at the last has
made me yours alone,
Come, my beloved, take
what is your due
And wholly yield to
me, as I to you!”