The Canterbury Tales

Eft* were his letters stolen every one, *again And counterfeited letters in this wise: The king commanded his Constable anon, On pain of hanging and of high jewise,* *judgement That he should suffer in no manner wise Constance within his regne* for to abide *kingdom Three dayes, and a quarter of a tide; But in the same ship as he her fand, Her and her younge son, and all her gear, He shoulde put, and crowd* her from the land, *push And charge her, that she never eft come there. O my Constance, well may thy ghost* have fear, *spirit And sleeping in thy dream be in penance,* *pain, trouble When Donegild cast* all this ordinance.** *contrived **plan, plot This messenger, on morrow when he woke, Unto the castle held the nexte* way, *nearest And to the constable the letter took; And when he this dispiteous* letter sey,** *cruel **saw Full oft he said, "Alas, and well-away! Lord Christ," quoth he, "how may this world endure? So full of sin is many a creature. "O mighty God, if that it be thy will, Since thou art rightful judge, how may it be That thou wilt suffer innocence to spill,* *be destroyed And wicked folk reign in prosperity? Ah! good Constance, alas! so woe is me, That I must be thy tormentor, or dey* *die A shameful death, there is no other way. Wept bothe young and old in all that place, When that the king this cursed letter sent; And Constance, with a deadly pale face, The fourthe day toward her ship she went. But natheless she took in good intent The will of Christ, and kneeling on the strond* *strand, shore She saide, "Lord, aye welcome be thy sond* *whatever thou sendest "He that me kepte from the false blame, While I was in the land amonges you, He can me keep from harm and eke from shame In the salt sea, although I see not how As strong as ever he was, he is yet now, In him trust I, and in his mother dere, That is to me my sail and eke my stere."* *rudder, guide Her little child lay weeping in her arm And, kneeling, piteously to him she said "Peace, little son, I will do thee no harm:" With that her kerchief off her head she braid,* *took, drew And over his little eyen she it laid, And in her arm she lulled it full fast, And unto heav'n her eyen up she cast. "Mother," quoth she, "and maiden bright, Mary, Sooth is, that through a woman's eggement* *incitement, egging on Mankind was lorn,* and damned aye to die; *lost For which thy child was on a cross y-rent:* *torn, pierced Thy blissful eyen saw all his torment, Then is there no comparison between Thy woe, and any woe man may sustene. "Thou saw'st thy child y-slain before thine eyen, And yet now lives my little child, parfay:* *by my faith Now, lady bright, to whom the woeful cryen, Thou glory of womanhood, thou faire may,* *maid Thou haven of refuge, bright star of day, Rue* on my child, that of thy gentleness *take pity Ruest on every rueful* in distress. *sorrowful person "O little child, alas! what is thy guilt, That never wroughtest sin as yet, pardie?* *par Dieu; by God Why will thine harde* father have thee spilt?** *cruel **destroyed O mercy, deare Constable," quoth she, "And let my little child here dwell with thee: And if thou dar'st not save him from blame, So kiss him ones in his father's name." Therewith she looked backward to the land, And saide, "Farewell, husband rutheless!" And up she rose, and walked down the strand Toward the ship, her following all the press:* *multitude And ever she pray'd her child to hold his peace, And took her leave, and with an holy intent She blessed her, and to the ship she went. Victualed was the ship, it is no drede,* *doubt Abundantly for her a full long space: And other necessaries that should need* *be needed She had enough, heried* be Godde's grace: *praised <15> For wind and weather, Almighty God purchase,* *provide And bring her home; I can no better say; But in the sea she drived forth her way. Alla the king came home soon after this Unto the castle, of the which I told, And asked where his wife and his child is; The Constable gan about his heart feel cold, And plainly all the matter he him told As ye have heard; I can tell it no better; And shew'd the king his seal, and eke his letter And saide; "Lord, as ye commanded me On pain of death, so have I done certain." The messenger tormented* was, till he *tortured Muste beknow,* and tell it flat and plain, *confess <16> From night to night in what place he had lain; And thus, by wit and subtle inquiring, Imagin'd was by whom this harm gan spring. The hand was known that had the letter wrote, And all the venom of the cursed deed; But in what wise, certainly I know not. Th' effect is this, that Alla, *out of drede,* *without doubt* His mother slew, that may men plainly read, For that she traitor was to her liegeance:* *allegiance Thus ended olde Donegild with mischance. The sorrow that this Alla night and day Made for his wife, and for his child also, There is no tongue that it telle may. But now will I again to Constance go, That floated in the sea in pain and woe Five year and more, as liked Christe's sond,* *decree, command Ere that her ship approached to the lond.* *land Under an heathen castle, at the last, Of which the name in my text I not find, Constance and eke her child the sea upcast. Almighty God, that saved all mankind, Have on Constance and on her child some mind, That fallen is in heathen hand eftsoon* *again *In point to spill,* as I shall tell you soon! *in danger of perishing* Down from the castle came there many a wight To gauren* on this ship, and on Constance: *gaze, stare But shortly from the castle, on a night, The lorde's steward, -- God give him mischance, -- A thief that had *renied our creance,* *denied our faith* Came to the ship alone, and said he would Her leman* be, whether she would or n'ould. *illicit lover Woe was this wretched woman then begone; Her child cri'd, and she cried piteously: But blissful Mary help'd her right anon, For, with her struggling well and mightily, The thief fell overboard all suddenly, And in the sea he drenched* for vengeance, *drowned And thus hath Christ unwemmed* kept Constance. *unblemished O foul lust of luxury! lo thine end! Not only that thou faintest* manne's mind, *weakenest But verily thou wilt his body shend.* *destroy Th' end of thy work, or of thy lustes blind, Is complaining: how many may men find, That not for work, sometimes, but for th' intent To do this sin, be either slain or shent? How may this weake woman have the strength Her to defend against this renegate? O Goliath, unmeasurable of length, How mighte David make thee so mate?* *overthrown So young, and of armour so desolate,* *devoid How durst he look upon thy dreadful face? Well may men see it was but Godde's grace. Who gave Judith courage or hardiness To slay him, Holofernes, in his tent, And to deliver out of wretchedness The people of God? I say for this intent That right as God spirit of vigour sent To them, and saved them out of mischance, So sent he might and vigour to Constance. Forth went her ship throughout the narrow mouth Of *Jubaltare and Septe,* driving alway, *Gibraltar and Ceuta* Sometime west, and sometime north and south, And sometime east, full many a weary day: Till Christe's mother (blessed be she aye) Had shaped* through her endeless goodness *resolved, arranged To make an end of all her heaviness. Now let us stint* of Constance but a throw,** *cease speaking And speak we of the Roman emperor, **short time That out of Syria had by letters know The slaughter of Christian folk, and dishonor Done to his daughter by a false traitor, I mean the cursed wicked Soudaness, That at the feast *let slay both more and less.* *caused both high and low to be killed* For which this emperor had sent anon His senator, with royal ordinance, And other lordes, God wot, many a one, On Syrians to take high vengeance: They burn and slay, and bring them to mischance Full many a day: but shortly this is th' end, Homeward to Rome they shaped them to wend. This senator repaired with victory To Rome-ward, sailing full royally, And met the ship driving, as saith the story, In which Constance sat full piteously: And nothing knew he what she was, nor why She was in such array; nor she will say Of her estate, although that she should dey.* *die He brought her unto Rome, and to his wife He gave her, and her younge son also: And with the senator she led her life. Thus can our Lady bringen out of woe Woeful Constance, and many another mo': And longe time she dwelled in that place, In holy works ever, as was her grace. The senatores wife her aunte was, But for all that she knew her ne'er the more: I will no longer tarry in this case, But to King Alla, whom I spake of yore, That for his wife wept and sighed sore, I will return, and leave I will Constance Under the senatores governance. King Alla, which that had his mother slain, Upon a day fell in such repentance; That, if I shortly tell it shall and plain, To Rome he came to receive his penitance, And put him in the Pope's ordinance In high and low, and Jesus Christ besought Forgive his wicked works that he had wrought. The fame anon throughout the town is borne, How Alla king shall come on pilgrimage, By harbingers that wente him beforn, For which the senator, as was usage, Rode *him again,* and many of his lineage, *to meet him* As well to show his high magnificence, As to do any king a reverence. Great cheere* did this noble senator *courtesy To King Alla and he to him also; Each of them did the other great honor; And so befell, that in a day or two This senator did to King Alla go To feast, and shortly, if I shall not lie, Constance's son went in his company. Some men would say,<17> at request of Constance This senator had led this child to feast: I may not tellen every circumstance, Be as be may, there was he at the least: But sooth is this, that at his mother's hest* *behest Before Alla during *the meates space,* *meal time* The child stood, looking in the kinges face. This Alla king had of this child great wonder, And to the senator he said anon, "Whose is that faire child that standeth yonder?" "I n'ot,"* quoth he, "by God and by Saint John; *know not A mother he hath, but father hath he none, That I of wot:" and shortly in a stound* *short time <18> He told to Alla how this child was found. "But God wot," quoth this senator also, "So virtuous a liver in all my life I never saw, as she, nor heard of mo' Of worldly woman, maiden, widow or wife: I dare well say she hadde lever* a knife *rather Throughout her breast, than be a woman wick',* *wicked There is no man could bring her to that prick.* *point Now was this child as like unto Constance As possible is a creature to be: This Alla had the face in remembrance Of Dame Constance, and thereon mused he, If that the childe's mother *were aught she* *could be she* That was his wife; and privily he sight,* *sighed And sped him from the table *that he might.* *as fast as he could* "Parfay,"* thought he, "phantom** is in mine head. *by my faith I ought to deem, of skilful judgement, **a fantasy That in the salte sea my wife is dead." And afterward he made his argument, "What wot I, if that Christ have hither sent My wife by sea, as well as he her sent To my country, from thennes that she went?" And, after noon, home with the senator. Went Alla, for to see this wondrous chance. This senator did Alla great honor, And hastily he sent after Constance: But truste well, her liste not to dance. When that she wiste wherefore was that sond,* *summons Unneth* upon her feet she mighte stand. *with difficulty When Alla saw his wife, fair he her gret,* *greeted And wept, that it was ruthe for to see, For at the firste look he on her set He knew well verily that it was she: And she, for sorrow, as dumb stood as a tree: So was her hearte shut in her distress, When she remember'd his unkindeness. Twice she swooned in his owen sight, He wept and him excused piteously: "Now God," quoth he, "and all his hallows bright* *saints So wisly* on my soule have mercy, *surely That of your harm as guilteless am I, As is Maurice my son, so like your face, Else may the fiend me fetch out of this place." Long was the sobbing and the bitter pain, Ere that their woeful heartes mighte cease; Great was the pity for to hear them plain,* *lament Through whiche plaintes gan their woe increase. I pray you all my labour to release, I may not tell all their woe till to-morrow, I am so weary for to speak of sorrow. But finally, when that the *sooth is wist,* *truth is known* That Alla guiltless was of all her woe, I trow an hundred times have they kiss'd, And such a bliss is there betwixt them two, That, save the joy that lasteth evermo', There is none like, that any creature Hath seen, or shall see, while the world may dure. Then prayed she her husband meekely In the relief of her long piteous pine,* *sorrow That he would pray her father specially, That of his majesty he would incline To vouchesafe some day with him to dine: She pray'd him eke, that he should by no way Unto her father no word of her say.