For
behind him he saw a woman the glory of her kind, more beautiful
than man ever hoped to see out of heaven.
"I told thee," she said, "thou couldst not say the thing to my
face!"
"For that it would be the greatest lie ever in this world uttered,"
answered the knight, "seeing that verily I do believe thee the
loveliest among women, God be praised! Nevertheless will I not go
with thee one step farther, so to peril my soul's health, except,
as thou thyself hast taught me to inquire, thou tell me thou lovest
the truth in all ways, in great ways as well as small."
"This much will I tell thee," she answered, "that I love thee
because thou lovest the truth. If I say not more, it is that it
seemeth to me a mortal must be humble speaking of great things.
Verily the truth is mighty, and will subdue my heart unto itself."
"And wilt thou help me to do the truth?" asked the knight.
"So the great truth help me!" she answered. And they rode on
together, and parted not thereafter. Here endeth the story of the
knight that spoke the truth.
Lady Joan ceased, and there was silence in the chamber, she looking
back over the pages, as if she had not quite understood, and Cosmo,
who had understood entirely, watching the lovely, dark, anxious
face. He saw she had not mastered the story, but, which was next
best, knew she had not. He began therefore to search her
difficulty, or rather to help it to take shape, and thereon
followed a conversation neither of them ever forgot concerning the
degrees of truth: as Cosmo designated them--the truth of fact, the
truth of vital relation, and the truth of action.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362