　　　　The Man of Law's Prologue

1 Oure Hooste saugh wel that the brighte sonne
2 The ark of his artificial day hath ronne
3 The ferthe part, and half an houre and moore;
4 And though he were nat depe expert in loore,
5 He wiste it was the eightetethe day
6 Of Aprill, that is messager to May;
7 And saugh wel, that the shadwe of every tree1
8 Was as in lengthe the same quantitee
9 That was the body erect that caused it,
10 And therfore by the shadwe he took his wit
11 That Phebus, which that shoon so clere and brighte,
12 Degrees was fyve and fourty clombe on highte;
13 And for that day, as in that latitude,
14 It was ten at the clokke, he gan conclude,
15 And sodeynly he plighte his hors aboute.-
16 Lordynges, quod he, I warne yow, al this route,
17 The fourthe party of this day is gon.
18 Now for the love of God and of Seint John,
19 Leseth no tyme, as ferforth as ye may.2
20 Lordynges, the tyme wasteth nyght and day,
21 And steleth from us, what pryvely slepynge,
22 And what thurgh necligence in oure wakynge,
23 As dooth the streem, that turneth nevere agayn,
24 Descendyng fro the montaigne into playn.
25 Wel kan Senec and many a philosophre
26 Biwaillen tyme, moore than gold in cofre.
27 `for losse of catel may recovered be,
28 But losse of tyme shendeth us,' quod he.
29 It wol nat come agayn, withouten drede,
30 Namoore than wole Malkynes maydenhede,
31 Whan she hath lost it in hir wantownesse.
32 Lat us nat mowlen thus in ydelnesse;
33 Sir man of lawe, quod he, so have ye blis,
34 Telle us a tale anon, as forward is.
35 Ye been submytted thurgh youre free assent
36 To stonden in this cas at my juggement.
37 Acquiteth yow as now of youre biheeste,
38 Thanne have ye do youre devoir atte leeste.
39 Hooste, quod he, Depardieux ich assente,
40 To breke forward is nat myn entente.
41 Biheste is dette, and I wole holde fayn
42 Al my biheste, I kan no bettre sayn.
43 For swich lawe as a man yeveth another wight,
44 He sholde hymselven usen it by right;
45 Thus wole oure text, but nathelees certeyn
46 I kan right now no thrifty tale seyn;
47 But Chaucer, thogh he kan but lewedly
48 On metres and on rymyng craftily,
49 Hath seyd hem in swich Englissh as he kan,
50 Of olde tyme, as knoweth many a man.
51 And if he have noght seyd hem, leve brother,
52 In o book, he hath seyd hem in another.
53 For he hath toold of loveris up and doun
54 Mo than Ovide made of mencioun,
55 In hise Episteles that been ful olde;
56 What sholde I tellen hem, syn they ben tolde?
57 In youthe he made of Ceys and Alcione,
58 And sitthen hath he spoken of everichone
59 Thise noble wyves and thise loveris eke.
60 Whoso that wole his large volume seke
61 Cleped the Seintes Legende of Cupide,
62 Ther may he seen the large woundes wyde
63 Of Lucresse, and of Babilan Tesbee,
64 The swerd of Dido for the false Enee,
65 The tree of Phillis for hir Demophon,
66 The pleinte of Dianire and Hermyon,
67 Of Adriane and of Isiphilee,
68 The bareyne yle stondynge in the see,
69 The dreynte Leandre for his Erro,
70 The teeris of Eleyne, and eek the wo
71 Of Brixseyde, and of the, Ladomea,
72 The crueltee of the, queene Medea,3
73 Thy litel children hangyng by the hals
74 For thy Jason, that was in love so fals.
75 O Ypermystra, Penolopee, Alceste,
76 Youre wyfhede he comendeth with the beste!
77 But certeinly no word ne writeth he
78 Of thilke wikke ensample of Canacee,
79 That loved hir owene brother synfully-
80 Of swiche cursed stories I sey fy!-
81 Or ellis of Tyro Appollonius,
82 How that the cursed kyng Antiochus
83 Birafte his doghter of hir maydenhede,
84 That is so horrible a tale for to rede,
85 Whan he hir threw upon the pavement.
86 And therfore he, of ful avysement,
87 Nolde nevere write, in none of his sermouns,
88 Of swiche unkynde abhomynaciouns;
89 Ne I wol noon reherce, if that I may.
90 But of my tale how shall I doon this day?
91 Me were looth be likned, doutelees,
92 To Muses that men clepe Pierides-
93 Methamorphosios woot what I mene-
94 But nathelees, I recche noght a bene
95 Though I come after hym with hawebake,
96 I speke in prose, and lat him rymes make.
97 And with that word he, with a sobre cheere,
98 Bigan his tale, as ye shal after heere.

　　　　The Man of Law's Tale

1 O hateful harm, condicion of poverte! 4
2 With thurst, with coold, with hunger so confoundid!
3 To asken help thee shameth in thyn herte,
4 If thou noon aske, so soore artow ywoundid
5 That verray nede unwrappeth al thy wounde hid;
6 Maugree thyn heed thou most for indigence
7 Or stele, or begge, or borwe thy despence!
8 Thow blamest Crist, and seist ful bitterly
9 He mysdeparteth richesse temporal.
10 Thy neighebore thou wytest synfully,
11 And seist thou hast to lite and he hath al.
12 Parfay! seistow, somtyme he rekene shal,
13 Whan that his tayl shal brennen in the gleede,
14 For he noght helpeth needfulle in hir neede.
15 Herkne what is the sentence of the wise,
16 Bet is to dyen than have indigence.
17 Thy selve neighebor wol thee despise,
18 If thou be povre, farwel thy reverence!
19 Yet of the wise man take this sentence,
20 Alle dayes of povre men been wikke;
21 Be war therfore, er thou come to that prikke.
22 If thou be povre, thy brother hateth thee,
23 And alle thy freendes fleen from thee; allas,
24 O riche marchauntz, ful of wele been yee!
25 O noble, o prudent folk, as in this cas!
26 Youre bagges been nat fild with ambes as,
27 But with sys cynk, that renneth for youre chaunce,
28 At Cristemasse myrie may ye daunce!
29 Ye seken lond and see for your wynnynges,
30 As wise folk ye knowen all thestaat
31 Of regnes; ye been fadres of tydynges
32 And tales, bothe of pees and of debaat.
33 I were right now of tales desolaat
34 Nere that a marchant, goon is many a yeere,
35 Me taughte a tale, which that ye shal heere.

1 In Surrye whilom dwelte a compaignye
2 Of chapmen riche, and therto sadde and trewe,
3 That wyde-where senten hir spicerye,
4 Clothes of gold, and satyns riche of hewe.
5 Hir chaffare was so thrifty and so newe
6 That every wight hath deyntee to chaffare
7 With hem, and eek to sellen hem hir ware.
8 Now fil it, that the maistres of that sort
9 Han shapen hem to Rome for to wende;
10 Were it for chapmanhode, or for disport,
11 Noon oother message wolde they thider sende,
12 But comen hemself to Rome, this is the ende,
13 And in swich place as thoughte hem avantage
14 For hir entente, they take hir herbergage.
15 Sojourned han thise Marchantz in that toun
16 A certein tyme, as fil to hire plesance.
17 And so bifel, that thexcellent renoun
18 Of the Emperoures doghter, Dame Custance,
19 Reported was, with every circumstance
20 Unto thise Surryen marchantz in swich wyse
21 Fro day to day, as I shal yow devyse.
22 This was the commune voys of every man:
23 Oure Emperour of Rome, God hym see,
24 A doghter hath, that syn the world bigan,
25 To rekene as wel hir goodnesse as beautee,
26 Nas nevere swich another as is shee.
27 I prey to God in honour hir sustene
28 And wolde she were of all Europe the queene!
29 In hir is heigh beautee, withoute pride,
30 Yowthe, withoute grenehede or folye,
31 To alle hir werkes vertu is hir gyde,
32 Humblesse hath slayn in hir al tirannye,
33 She is mirour of alle curteisye,
34 Hir herte is verray chambre of hoolynesse,
35 Hir hand ministre of fredam for almesse.
36 And al this voys was sooth, as God is trewe!
37 But now to purpos, lat us turne agayn;
38 Thise marchantz han doon fraught hir shippes newe,
39 And whan they han this blisful mayden sayn,
40 Hoom to Surrye been they went ful fayn,
41 And doon hir nedes as they han doon yoore,
42 And lyven in wele, I kan sey yow namoore.
43 Now fil it, that thise marchantz stode in grace
44 Of hym, that was the Sowdan of Surrye.
45 For whan they cam from any strange place,
46 He wolde, of his benigne curteisye,
47 Make hem good chiere, and bisily espye
48 Tidynges of sondry regnes, for to leere
49 The wondres that they myghte seen or heere.
50 Amonges othere thynges, specially
51 Thise marchantz han hym toold of dame Custance
52 So greet noblesse, in ernest ceriously,
53 That this Sowdan hath caught so greet plesance
54 To han hir figure in his remembrance,
55 That all his lust and al his bisy cure
56 Was for to love hir, while his lyf may dure.
57 Praventure in thilke large book,5
58 Which that men clipe the hevene, ywriten was
59 With sterres, whan that he his birthe took,
60 That he for love sholde han his deeth, allas!
61 For in the sterres clerer than is glas
62 Is writen, God woot, whoso koude it rede,
63 The deeth of every man, withouten drede.
64 In sterres many a wynter therbiforn
65 Was writen the deeth of Ector, Achilles,
66 Of Pompei, Julius, er they were born,
67 The strif of Thebes, and of Ercules,
68 Of Sampson, Turnus, and of Socrates
69 The deeth, but mennes wittes ben so dulle
70 That no wight kan wel rede it atte fulle.
71 This Sowdan for his privee conseil sente,
72 And, shortly of this matiere for to pace,
73 He hath to hem declared his entente
74 And seyde hem, certein, but he myghte have grace
75 To han Custance withinne a litel space,
76 He nas but deed; and charged hem in hye
77 To shapen for his lyf som remedye.
78 Diverse men diverse thynges seyden;
79 They argumenten, casten up and doun,
80 Many a subtil resoun forth they leyden,
81 They speken of magyk and abusioun;
82 But finally, as in conclusioun,
83 They kan nat seen in that noon avantage,
84 Ne in noon oother wey, save mariage.
85 Thanne sawe they therin swich difficultee
86 By wey of reson, for to speke al playn
87 Bycause that ther was swich diversitee
88 Bitwene hir bothe lawes, that they sayn
89 They trowe that no cristene prince wolde fayn
90 Wedden his child under oure lawes swete
91 That us were taught by Mahoun oure prophete.
92 And he answerde: Rather than I lese
93 Custance, I wol be cristned, doutelees.
94 I moot been hires, I may noon oother chese;
95 I prey yow, hoold youre argumentz in pees.
96　Saveth my lyf, and beth noght recchelees
97 To geten hir that hath my lyf in cure,
98 For in this wo I may nat longe endure.
99 What nedeth gretter dilatacioun?6
100 I syey, by tretys and embassadrye
101 And by the popes mediacioun,
102 And al the chirche and al the chivalrie,
103 That in destruccioun of Mawmettrie
104 And in encrees of Cristes lawe deere,
105 They been acorded, so as ye shal heere,
106 How that the Sowdan and his baronage
107 And alle hise liges sholde ycristned be-
108 And he shal han Custance in mariage,
109 And certein gold, I noot what quantitee,7
110 And heerto founden suffisant suretee.
111 This same accord was sworn on eyther syde.
112 Now, faire Custance, almyghty God thee gyde!
113 Now wolde som men waiten, as I gesse,
114 That I sholde tellen al the purveiance
115 That themperour, of his grete noblesse,
116 Hath shapen for his doghter dame Custance;
117 Wel may men knowen that so greet ordinance8
118 May no man tellen in alitel clause
119 As was arrayed for so heigh a cause.
120 Bisshopes been shapen with hir for to wende,
121 Lordes, ladies, knyghtes of renoun,
122 And oother folk ynogh, this is the ende,
123 And notified is, thurghout the toun,
124 That every wight with greet devocioun
125 Sholde preyen Crist, that he this mariage
126 Receyve in gree, and spede this viage.
127 The day is comen of hir departynge,
128 I seye, the woful day fatal is come,
129 That ther may be no lenger tariynge,
130 But forthward they hem dressen, alle and some.
131 Custance, that was with sorwe al overcome,9
132 Ful pale arist, and dresseth hir to wende,
133 For wel she seeth ther is noon oother ende.
134 Allas, what wonder is it thogh she wepte,
135 That shal be sent to strange nacioun
136 Fro freendes that so tendrely hir kepte,
137 And to be bounden under subjeccioun
138 Of oon, she knoweth nat his condicioun?
139 Housbondes been alle goode, and han ben yoore,
140 That knowen wyves! I dar sey yow namoore.
141 Fader, she seyde, Thy wrecched child Custance,
142 Thy yonge doghter, fostred up so softe,
143 And ye my mooder, my soverayn plesance,
144 Over alle thyng, out-taken Crist on-lofte,
145 Custance, youre child, hir recomandeth ofte
146 Unto your grace, for I shal to Surrye
147 Ne shal I nevere seen yow moore with eye.10
148 Allas! unto the barbre nacioun
149 I moste goon, syn that it is youre wille,
150 But Crist, that starf for our savacioun,
151 So yeve me grace hise heestes to fulfille,-
152 I, wrecche womman, no fors though I spille.
153 Wommen are born to thraldom and penance,
154 And to been under mannes governance.
155 I trowe, at Troye whan Pirrus brak the wal,
156 Or Ilion brende, ne at Thebes the Citee,
157 Ne at Rome for the harm thurgh Hanybal
158 That Romayns hath venquysshed tymes thre,
159 Nas herd swich tendre wepyng for pitee
160 As in the chambre was, for his departynge;
161 But forth she moot, wher-so she wepe or synge.11
162 O firste moevyng crueel firmanent,
163 With thy diurnal sweigh, that crowdest ay
164 And hurlest al from Est til Occident
165 That naturelly wolde holde another way,
166 Thy crowdyng set the hevene in swich array
167 At the bigynnyng of this fiers viage,
168 That crueel Mars hath slayn this mariage.
169 Infortunat ascendent tortuous,
170 Of which the lord is helplees falle, allas!
171 Out of his angle into the derkeste hous.
172 O Mars! O Atazir! as in this cas,
173 O fieble Moone, unhappy been thy paas!
174 Thou knyttest thee, ther thou art nat receyved;
175 Ther thou were weel, fro thennes artow weyved.-
176 Imprudent Emperour of Rome, allas!
177 Was ther no philosophre in al thy toun?
178 Is no tyme bet than oother in swich cas?
179 Of viage is ther noon eleccioun,
180 Namely to folk of heigh condicioun,
181 Noght whan a roote is of a burthe yknowe?
182 Allas, we been to lewed or to slowe!
183 To ship is brought this woful faire mayde
184 Solempnely, with every circumstance,
185 Now Jesu Crist be with yow alle, she seyde.
186 Ther nys namoore but, Farewel faire Custance!
187 She peyneth hir to make good contenance,
188 And forth I lete hir saille in this manere,
189 And turne I wole agayn to my matere.
190 The mooder of the Sowdan, welle of vyices,
191 Espied hath hir sones pleyne entente,
192 How he wol lete hise olde sacrifices,
193 And right anon she for hir conseil sente,
194 And they been come, to knowe what she mente,
195 And whan assembled was this folk in feere,
196 She sette hir doun, and seyde as ye shal heere.
197 Lordes, quod she, ye knowen everichon,
198 How that my sone in point is for to lete
199 The hooly lawes of oure Alkaron,
200 Yeven by Goddes message, Makomete.
201 But oon avow to grete God I heete,
202 The lyf shal rather out of my body sterte,12
203 Than Makometes lawe out of myn herte!
204 What sholde us tyden of this newe lawe
205 But thraldom to our bodies, and penance,
206 And afterward in helle to be drawe
207 For we reneyed Mahoun oure creance?
208 But lordes, wol ye maken assurance
209 As I shal seyn, assentynge to my loore,
210 And I shal make us sauf for everemoore.
211 They sworen and assenten every man
212 To lyve with hir, and dye, and by hir stonde,
213 And everich in the beste wise he kan
214 To strengthen hir shal alle hise frendes fonde,
215 And she hath this emprise ytake on honde,
216 Which ye shal heren, that I shal devyse.
217 And to hem alle she spak right in this wyse:
218 We shul first feyne us cristendom to take,-
219 Coold water shal nat greve us but a lite-
220 And I shal swich a feeste and revel make,
221 That as I trowe I shal the Sowdan quite;
222 For thogh his wyf be cristned never so white,13
223 She shal have nede to wasshe awey the rede,
224 Thogh she a fontful water with hir lede!
225 O Sowdanesse, roote of iniquitee!
226 Virage, thou Semyrame the secounde!
227 O serpent under femynyntee,
228 Lik to the serpent depe in helle ybounde!
229 O feyned womman, al that may confounde
230 Vertu and innocence thurgh thy malice
231 Is bred in thee, as nest of every vice!
232 O Sathan, envious syn thilke day
233 That thou were chaced from oure heritage,
234 Wel knowestow to wommen the olde way!
235 Thou madest Eva brynge us in servage;
236 Thou wolt fordoon this cristen mariage.
237 Thyn instrument, so weylawey the while!
238 Makestow of wommen, whan thou wolt bigile!
239 This Sowdanesse, whom I thus blame and warie,
240 Leet prively hir conseil goon hir way.
241 What sholde I in this tale lenger tarie?
242 She rydeth to the Sowdan on a day
243 And seyde hym, that she wolde reneye hir lay,
244 And cristendom of preestes handes fonge,
245 Repentynge hir she hethen was so longe;
246 Bisechynge hym to doon hir that honour
247 That she moste han the cristen folk to feeste.
248 To plesen hem I wol do my labour.
249 The Sowdan seith, I wol doon at youre heeste,
250 And knelynge thanketh hir of that requeste.
251 So gald he was, he nyste what to seye;
252 She kiste hir sone, and hoome she gooth hir weye.
253 Explicit prima pars.
254 Sequitur pars secunda.
255 Arryved been this cristen folk to londe,
256 In Surrye, with a greet solempne route,
257 And hastifliche this Sowdan sente his sonde
258 First to his mooder and all the regne aboute,
259 And seyde his wyf was comen, oute of doute,
260 And preyde hir for to ryde agayn the queene,
261 The honour of his regne to susteene.
262 Greet was the prees, and riche was tharray
263 Of Surryens and Romayns met yfeere;
264 The mooder of the Sowdan, riche and gay,
265 Receyveth hir with also glad a cheere
266 As any mooder myghte hir doghter deere,
267 And to the nexte citee ther bisyde
268 A softe pass solempnely they ryde.
269 Noght trowe I the triumphe of Julius,
270 Of which that Lucan maketh swich a boost,
271 Was roialler, ne moore curius
272 Than was thassemblee of this blisful hoost.
273 But this scorpioun, this wikked goost,14
274 The Sowdanesse, for all hir falterynge
275 Caste under this ful mortally to stynge.
276 The Sowdabn comth hymself soone after this
277 So roially, that wonder is to telle,
278 And welcometh hir with alle joye and blis,
279 And thus in murthe and joye I lete hem dwelle-
280 The fruyt of this matiere is that I telle.-
281 Whan tyme cam, men thoughte it for the beste,
282 The revel stynte, and men goon to hir reste.
283 The tyme cam, this olde Sowdanesse
284 Ordeyned hath this feeste of which I tolde,
285 And to the feeste cristen folk hem dresse
286 In general, ye, bothe yonge and olde.
287 Heere may men feeste and roialtee biholde,
288 And deyntees mo than I kan yow devyse;
289 But al to deere they boghte it er they ryse!
290 O sodeyn wo, that evere art successour15
291 To worldly blisse, spreynd with bitternesse!
292 The ende of the joye of oure worldly labour!
293 Wo occupieth the fyn of oure galdnesse!
294 Herke this conseil for thy sikernesse,
295 Upon thy galde day have in thy minde
296 The unwar wo or harm that comth bihynde.
297 For shortly for to tellen at o word,
298 The Sowdan and the cristen everichone
299 Been al tohewe and stiked at the bord,
300 But it were oonly dame Custance allone.
301 This olde Sowdanesse, cursed krone,
302 Hath with hir freendes doon this cursed dede,
303 For she hirself wolde all the contree lede.
304 Ne was ther Surryen noon, that was converted,
305 That of the conseil of the Sowdan woot,
306 That he nas al tohewe er he asterted.
307 And Custance han they take anon foot-hoot
308 And in a ship all steerelees, God woot,
309 They han hir set, and biddeth hir lerne saille
310 Out of Surrye agaynward to Ytaille.
311 A certein tresor that she thider ladde,
312 And, sooth to seyn, vitaille greet plentee
313 They han hir yeven, and clothes eek she hadde,
314 And forth she sailleth in the salte see.
315 O my Custance, ful of benignytee,
316 O emperoures yonge doghter deere,
317 He that is lord of Fortune be thy steere!
318 She blesseth hir, and with ful pitous voys
319 Unto the croys of Crist thus seyde she,
320 O cleere, o welful auter, hooly croys,16
321 Reed of the lambes blood, ful of pitee,
322 That wesshe the world fro the olde iniquitee,
323 Me fro the feend and fro his clawes kepe,
324 That day that I shal drenchen in the depe.
325 Victorious tree, proteccioun of trewe,
326 That oonly worthy were for to bere
327 The kyng of hevene with his woundes newe,
328 The white lamb that hurt was with the spere,
329 Flemer of feendes out of hym and here
330 On which thy lymes feithfully extenden,
331 Me keep, and yif me myght my lyf tamenden.
332 Yeres and dayes fleteth this creature
333 Thurghout the See of Grece unto the Strayte
334 Of Marrok, as it was hir aventure.
335 On many a sory meel now may she bayte;
336 After hir deeth ful often may she wayte,
337 Er that the wilde wawes wol hire dryve
338 Unto the place ther she shal arryve.
339 Men myghten asken why she was nat slayn?
340 Eek at the feeste who myghte hir body save?
341 And I answere to that demande agayn,
342 Who saved Danyel in the horrible cave,
343 Ther every wight save he, maister and knave,
344 Was with the leoun frete, er he asterte?
345 No wight but God, that he bar in his herte.
346 God liste to shewe his wonderful myracle
347 In hir, for we sholde seen his myghty werkis.
348 Crist, which that is to every harm triacle,
349 By certeine meenes ofte, as knowen clerkis,
350 Dooth thyng for certein ende, that ful derk is
351 To mannes wit, that for oure ignorance
352 Ne konne noght knowe his prudent purveiance.
353 Now, sith she was nat at the feeste yslawe,
354 Who kepte hir fro the drenchyng in the see?
355 Who kepte Jonas in the fisshes mawe
356 Til he was spouted up at Nynyvee?
357 Wel may men knowe it was no wight but he
358 That kepte peple Ebrayk from hir drenchynge,17
359 With drye feet thurghout the see passynge.
360 Who bad the foure spirites of tempest,
361 That power han tanoyen lond and see,
362 Bothe north and south, and also west and est,
363 Anoyeth neither see, ne land, ne tree?
364 Soothly, the comandour of that was he,
365 That fro the tempest ay this womman kepte,
366 As wel eek when she wook as whan she slepte.
367 Where myghte this womman mete and drynke have?
368 Thre yeer and moore how lasteth hir vitaille?
369 Who fedde the Egypcien Marie in the cave,
370 Or in desert? no wight but Crist sanz faille.
371 Fyve thousand folk it was as greet mervaille
372 With loves fyve and fisshes two to feede;
373 God sente his foyson at hir grete neede.
374 She dryveth forth into oure occian
375 Thurghout oure wilde see, til atte laste
376 Under an hoold that nempnen I ne kan,
377 Fer in Northhumberlond, the wawe hir caste,
378 And in the sond hir ship stiked so faste
379 That thennes wolde it noght of al a tyde,
380 The wyl of Crist was that she sholde abyde.
381 The constable of the castel doun is fare
382 To seen his wrak, and al the ship he soghte,
383 And foond this wery womman ful of care,
384 He foond also the tresor that she broghte,
385 In hir langage mercy she bisoghte,
386 The lyf out of hire body for to twynne,
387 Hir to delivere of wo that she was inne.
388 A maner Latyn corrupt was hir speche,
389 But algates ther-by was she understonde.
390 The constable, whan hym lyst no lenger seche,
391 This woful womman broghte he to the londe.
392 She kneleth doun and thanketh Goddes sonde;
393 But what she was, she wolde no man seye,
394 For foul ne fair, thogh that she sholde deye.
395 She seyde, she was so mazed in the see
396 That she forgat hir mynde, by hir trouthe.
397 The constable hath of hir so greet pitee,
398 And eke his wyf, that they wepen for routhe.
399 She was so diligent withouten slouthe
400 To serve and plesen everich in that place,
401 That alle hir loven that looken on hir face.
402 This constable and dame Hermengyld his wyf
403 Were payens, and that contree every-where;
404 But Hermengyld loved hir right as hir lyf,
405 And Custance hath so longe sojourned there
406 In orisons with many a bitter teere,
407 Til Jesu hath converted thurgh his grace
408 Dame Hermengyld, constablesse of that place.
409 In al that lond no cristen dorste route,
410 Alle cristen folk been fled fro that contree
411 Thurgh payens that conquereden al aboute
412 The plages of the North by land and see.
413 To Walys fledde the Cristyanytee
414 Of olde Britons, dwellynge in this Ile;
415 Ther was hir refut for the meene-while.
416 But yet nere cristene Britons so exiled
417 That ther nere somme that in hir privetee
418 Honoured Crist, and hethen folk bigiled,
419 And ny the castel swiche ther dwelten three;
420 That oon of hem was blynd, and myghte nat see,18
421 But it were with thilke eyen of his mynde,
422 With whiche men seen, after that they ben blynde.
423 Bright was the sonne as in that someres day,
424 For which the constable and his wyf also
425 And Custance han ytake the righte way
426 Toward the see, a furlong wey or two,
427 To pleyen, and to romen, to and fro,
428 And in hir walk this blynde man they mette,19
429 Croked and oold, with eyen faste yshette.
430 In name of Crist, cride this olde Britoun,
431 Dame Hermengyld, yif me my sighte agayn.
432 This lady weex affrayed of the soun,
433 Lest that hir housbonde, shortly for to sayn,
434 Wolde hir for Jesu Cristes love han slayn,
435 Til Custance made hir boold, and bad hir wirche
436 The wyl of Crist, as doghter of his chirche.
437 The constable weex abasshed of that sight,
438 And seyde, What amounteth all this fare!
439 Custance answerde, Sire, it is Cristes myght,
440 That helpeth folk out of the feendes snare.
441 And so ferforth she gan oure lay declare,
442 That she the constable, er that it were eve,
443 Converteth, and on Crist maketh hym bileve.
444 This constable was no-thyng lord of this place
445 Of which I speke, ther he Custance fond;
446 But kepte it strongly many wyntres space
447 Under Alla, kyng of al Northhumbrelond,
448 That was ful wys and worthy of his hond
449 Agayn the Scottes, as men may wel heere;-
450 But turne I wole agayn to my mateere.
451 Sathan, that ever us waiteth to bigile,
452 Saugh of Custance al hir perfeccioun
453 And caste anon how he myghte quite hir while;
454 And made a yong knyght, that dwelte in that toun,
455 Love hir so hoote of foul affeccioun
456 That verraily hym thoughte he sholde spille,
457 But he of hir myghte ones have his wille.
458 He woweth hir, but it availleth noght,
459 She wolde do no synne, by no were;
460 And for despit he compassed in his thoght
461 To maken hir on shameful deeth to deye.
462 He wayteth whan the constable was aweye
463 And pryvely upon a nyght he crepte20
464 In Hermengyldes chambre whil she slepte.
465 Wery, for-waked in hir orisouns,
466 Slepeth Custance, and Hermengyld also.
467 This knyght, thurgh Sathanas temptaciouns,
468 All softely is to the bed ygo,
469 And kitte the throte of Hermengyld atwo,
470 And leyde the blody knyf by dame Custance,
471 And wente his wey, ther God yeve hym meschance!
472 Soone after cometh this constable hoom agayn,
473 And eek Alla, that kyng was of that lond,
474 And saugh his wyf despitously yslayn,
475 For which ful ofte he weep and wroong his hond,
476 And in the bed the blody knyf he fond
477 By Dame Custance; allas, what myghte she seye?
478 For verray wo hir wit was al aweye!
479 To kyng Alla was toold al this meschance,
480 And eek the tyme, and where, and in what wise
481 That in a ship was founden dame Custance,
482 As heer-biforn that ye han herd devyse.
483 The kynges herte of pitee gan agryse,
484 Whan he saugh so benigne a creature
485 Falle in disese and in mysaventure.
486 For as the lomb toward his deeth is broght,
487 So stant this innocent bifore the kyng.
488 This false knyght, that hath this tresoun wroght,
489 Berth hir on hond that she hath doon thys thyng,
490 But nathelees, ther was greet moornyng
491 Among the peple, and seyn, they kan nat gesse
492 That she had doon so greet a wikkednesse;
493 For they han seyn hir evere so vertuous,
494 And lovyng Hermengyld right as hir lyf:
495 Of this baar witnesse everich in that hous
496 Save he that Hermengyld slow with his knyf.
497 This gentil kyng hath caught a greet motyf
498 Of this witnesse, and thoghte he wolde enquere
499 Depper in this, a trouthe for to lere.
500 Allas, Custance, thou hast no champioun!
501 Ne fighte kanstow noght, so weylaway!
502 But he, that starf for our redempcioun,
503 And boond Sathan-and yet lith ther he lay-
504 So be thy stronge champion this day!
505 For but if Crist open myracle kithe,
506 Withouten gilt thou shalt be slayn as swithe.
507 She sette hir doun on knees, and thus she sayde,
508 Immortal God, that savedest Susanne
509 Fro false blame, and thou, merciful Mayde,
510 Marie I meene, doghter to Seynte Anne,
511 Bifore whos child angeles synge Osanne,
512 If I be giltlees of this felonye,
513 My socour be, for ellis shal I dye.
514 Have ye nat seyn som tyme a pale face21
515 Among a prees, of hym that hath be lad
516 Toward his deeth, wher as hym gat no grace,
517 And swich a colour in his face hath had,
518 Men myghte knowe his face, that was bistad,
519 Amonges alle the faces in that route?
520 So stant Custance, and looketh hir aboute.
521 O queenes, lyvynge in prosperitee,
522 Duchesses, and ladyes everichone,
523 Haveth som routhe on hir adversitee;
524 An emperoures doghter stant allone,
525 She hath no wight to whom to make hir mone.
526 O blood roial, that stondest in this drede,
527 Fer been thy freendes at thy grete nede!
528 This Alla kyng hath swich compassioun,
529 As gentil herte is fulfild of pitee,
530 That from hise eyen ran the water doun.
531 Now hastily do fecche a book, quod he,
532 And if this knyght wol sweren how that she
533 This womman slow, yet wol we us avyse,
534 Whom that we wole, that shal been oure justise.
535
536 A Britoun book, written with Evaungiles,
537 Was fet, and on this book he swoor anoon
538 She gilty was, and in the meene-whiles
539 An hand hym smoot upon the nekke-boon,22
540 That doun he fil atones, as a stoon;
541 And bothe hise eyen broste out of his face,
542 In sighte of every body in that place.
543 A voys was herd in general audience,
544 And seyde, Thou hast desclaundred giltelees
545 The doghter of hooly chirche in heigh presence,
546 Thus hastou doon, and yet holde I my pees.
547 Of this mervaille agast was al the prees,
548 As mazed folk they stoden everichone
549 For drede of wreche, save Custance allone.
550 Greet was the drede and eek the repentance
551 Of hem that hadden wronge suspecioun
552 Upon this sely innocent, Custance;
553 And for this miracle, in conclusioun,
554 And by Custances mediacioun,
555 The kyng, and many another in that place,
556 Converted was, thanked be Cristes grace.
557 This false knyght was slayn for his untrouthe,
558 By juggement of Alla hastifly-
559 And yet Custance hadde of his deeth greet routhe-
560 And after this Jesus, of His mercy,
561 Made Alla wedden ful solempnely
562 This hooly mayden, that is so bright and sheene,
563 And thus hath Crist ymaad Custance a queene.
564 But who was woful, if I shal nat lye,
565 Of this weddyng but Donegild, and namo,
566 The kynges mooder, ful of tirannye?
567 Hir thoughte hir cursed herte brast atwo,
568 She wolde noght hir sone had do so,
569 Hir thoughte a despit, that he sholde take
570 So strange a creature unto his make.
571 Me list nat of the chaf nor of the stree23
572 Maken so long a tale, as of the corn;
573 What sholde I tellen of the roialtee
574 At mariages, or which cours goth biforn,
575 Who bloweth in the trumpe, or in an horn?
576 The fruyt of every tale is for to seye;
577 They ete, and drynke, and daunce, and synge, and pleye.
578 They goon to bedde, as it was skile and right,
579 For thogh that wyves be ful hooly thynges,24
580 They moste take in pacience at nyght
581 Swiche manere necessaries as been plesynges
582 To folk that han ywedded hem with rynges,
583 And leye a lite hir hoolynesse aside
584 As for the tyme, it may no bet bitide.
585 On hir he gat a knave childe anon,
586 And to a bisshop and his constable eke
587 He took his wyf to kepe, whan he is gon
588 To Scotlondward, his foomen for to seke.
589 Now faire Custance, that is so humble and meke,
590 So longe is goon with childe, til that stille
591 She halt hire chambre, abidyng Cristes wille.
592 The tyme is come; a knave child she beer,
593 Mauricius at the fontstoon they hym calle.
594 This constable dooth forth come a messageer,
595 And wroot unto his kyng, that cleped was Alle,
596 How that this blisful tidyng is bifalle,
597 And othere tidynges spedeful for to seye;
598 He taketh the lettre, and forth he gooth his weye.
599 This messager, to doon his avantage,
600 Unto the kynges mooder rideth swithe,
601 And salueth hir ful faire in his langage,
602 Madame, quod he, ye may be glad and blithe,
603 And thanketh God an hundred thousand sithe.
604 My lady queene hath child, withouten doute,
605 To joye and blisse to al this regne aboute.
606 Lo, heere the lettres seled of this thyng,
607 That I moot bere with al the haste I may.
608 If ye wol aught unto youre sone, the kyng,
609 I am youre servant both nyght and day.
610 Donegild answerde, as now at this tyme, nay,
611 But heere al nyght I wol thou take thy reste,
612 Tomorwe wol I seye thee what me leste.
613 This messager drank sadly ale and wyn,25
614 And stolen wer hise lettres prively
615 Out of his box, whil he sleep as a swyn;
616 And countrefeted was ful subtilly
617 Another lettre wroght ful synfully,
618 Unto the kyng direct of this mateere
619 Fro his constable, as ye shal after heere.
620 The lettre spak, the queene delivered was
621 Of so horrible a feendly creature
622 That in the castel noon so hardy was
623 That any while dorste ther endure;
624 The mooder was an elf, by aventure,
625 Yeomen by charmes or by sorcerie,
626 And every wight hateth hir compaignye.
627 Wo was this kyng whan he this lettre had sayn,
628 But to no wight he tolde his sorwes soore,
629 But of his owene hand he wroot agayn:
630 Welcome the sonde of Crist for everemoore
631 To me, that am now lerned in his loore.
632 Lord, welcome be thy lust and thy plesaunce,
633 My lust I putte al in thyn ordinaunce.
634 Kepeth this child, al be it foul or feire,
635 And eek my wyf, unto myn hoom-comynge;
636 Crist, whan hym list, may sende me an heir
637 Moore agreable than this to my likynge.
638 This lettre he seleth, pryvely wepynge,
639 Which to the messager was take soone
640 And forth he gooth, ther is namoore to doone.
641 O messager, fulfild of dronkenesse,26
642 Strong is thy breeth, thy lymes faltren ay,
643 And thou biwreyest alle secreenesse.
644 Thy mynde is lorn, thou janglest as a jay,
645 Thy face is turned in a newe array;
646 Ther dronkenesse regneth in any route,
647 Ther is no conseil hyd, withouten doute.
648 O Donegild, I ne have noon Englissh digne
649 Unto thy malice and thy tirannye;
650 And therfore to the feend I thee resigne,
651 Lat hym enditen of thy traitorie!
652 Fy, mannysh, fy? O nay, by God, I lye!
653 Fy, feendlych spirit! for I dar wel telle,
654 Thogh thou heere walke, thy spirit is in helle.
655 This messager comth fro the kyng agayn,
656 And at the kynges moodres court he lighte
657 And she was of this messager ful fayn,
658 And plesed hym in al that ever she myghte.
659 He drank, and wel his girdel underpighte.
660 He slepeth, and he fnorteth in his gyse
661 Al nyght until the sonne gan aryse.
662 Eft were hise lettres stolen everychon
663 And countrefeted lettres in this wyse,
664 The king comandeth his constable anon
665 Up peyne of hangyng and on heigh juyse
666 That he ne sholde suffren in no wyse
667 Custance inwith his reawme for tabyde,
668 Thre dayes and o quarter of a tyde.
669 But in the same ship as he hir fond,
670 Hir and hir yonge sone, and al hir geere,
671 He sholde putte, and croude hir fro the lond,
672 And chargen hir she never eft coome theere.
673 O my Custance, wel may thy goost have fere,
674 And slepynge in thy dreem been in penance,
675 Whan Donegild cast al this ordinance.
676 This messager, on morwe whan he wook,
677 Unto the Castel halt the nexte way,
678 And to the constable he the lettre took.
679 And whan that he this pitous lettre say,
680 Ful ofte he seyde, Allas and weylaway!
681 Lord Crist, quod he, how may this world endure,27
682 So ful of synne is many a creature?
683 O myghty God, if that it be thy wille,
684 Sith thou art rightful juge, how may it be
685 That thou wolt suffren innocentz to spille,
686 And wikked folk regnen in prosperitee?
687 O goode Custance, allas, so wo is me,
688 That I moot be thy tormentour, or deye
689 On shames deeth! Ther is noon oother weye!
690 Wepen bothe yonge and olde in al that place,
691 Whan that the kyng this cursed lettre sente,
692 And Custance, with a deedly pale face,
693 The ferthe day toward the ship she wente;
694 But nathelees she taketh in good entente
695 The wyl of Crist, and knelynge on the stronde,
696 She seyde, Lord, ay welcome be thy sonde!
697 He that me kepte fro the false blame,
698 While I was on the lond amonges yow,
699 He kan me kepe from harm and eek fro shame
700 In salte see, al thogh I se noght how.
701 As strong as evere he was, he is yet now;
702 In hym triste I, and in his mooder deere,
703 That is to me myu seyl and eek my steere.
704 Hir litel child lay wepyng in hir arm,28
705 And knelynge, pitously to hym she seyde,
706 Pees, litel sone, I wol do thee noon harm.
707 With that hir coverchief on hir heed she breyde,
708 And over hise litel eyen she it leyde,
709 And in hir arm she lulleth it ful faste,
710 And into hevene hir eyen up she caste.
711 Mooder, quod she, and mayde bright, Marie,
712 Sooth is that thurgh wommanes eggement
713 Mankynde was lorn and damned ay to dye,
714 For which thy child was on a croys yrent;
715 Thy blisful eyen sawe al his torment;
716 Thanne is ther no comparison bitwene
717 Thy wo, and any wo man may sustene.
718 Thow sawe thy child yslayn bifore thyne eyen,
719 And yet now lyveth my litel child, parfay.
720 Now, lady bright, to whom alle woful cryen,29
721 Thow glorie of wommanhede, thow faire may,
722 Thow haven of refut, brighte sterre of day,
723 Rewe on my child, that of thy gentillesse
724 Ruest on every reweful in distresse.
725 O litel child, allas, what is thy gilt,
726 That nevere wroghtest synne as yet, pardee!
727 Why wil thyn harde fader han thee spilt?
728 O mercy, deere Constable, quod she,
729 As lat my litel child dwelle heer with thee;
730 And if thou darst nat saven hym for blame,
731 Yet kys hym ones in his fadres name.
732 Therwith she looketh bakward to the londe,
733 And seyde, Farwel, housbonde routheless!
734 And up she rist, and walketh doun the stronde,
735 Toward the ship. Hir folweth al the prees,
736 And evere she preyeth hir child to holde his pees,
737 And taketh hir leve, and with an hooly entente
738 She blisseth hir, and into ship she wente.
739 Vitailled was the ship, it is no drede,
740 Habundantly for hir ful longe space;
741 And othere necessaries that sholde nede
742 She hadde ynogh, heried be Goddes grace;
743 For wynd and weder almyghty God purchace,
744 And brynge hir hoom, I kan no bettre seye!
745 But in the see she dryveth forth hir weye.
746 Alla the kyng comth hoom, soone after this,
747 Unto his castel of the which I tolde,
748 And asketh where his wyf and his child is.
749 The constable gan aboute his herte colde,
750 And pleynly al the manere he hym tolde,
751 As ye han herd, I kan telle it no bettre;
752 And sheweth the kyng his seel and eek his lettre,
753 And seyde, Lord, as ye comanded me,
754 Up peyne of deeth, so have I doon, certein.
755 This messager tormented was, til he
756 Moste biknowe, and tellen plat and pleyn
757 Fro nyght to nyght in what place he had leyn,
758 And thus by wit and sotil enquerynge
759 Ymagined was, by whom this harm gan sprynge.
760 The hand was knowe that the lettre wroot,
761 And al the venym of this cursed dede,
762 But in what wise certeinly I noot.
763 Theffect is this, that Alla, out of drede,
764 His mooder slow, that may men pleynly rede,
765 For that she traitoure was to hir ligeance,
766 Thus endeth olde Donegild, with meschance!
767 The sorwe that this Alla, nyght and day,
768 Maketh for his wyf, and for his child also,
769 Ther is no tonge that it telle may-
770 But now wol I unto Custance go,
771 That fleteth in the see in peyne and wo,
772 Fyve yeer and moore, as liked Cristes sonde,
773 Er that hir ship approched unto londe.
774 Under an hethen castel, atte laste,
775 Of which the name in my text toght I fynde,
776 Custance and eek hir child the see upcaste.
777 Almyghty god that saved al mankynde,
778 Have on Custance and on hir child som mynde,
779 That fallen is in hethen hand eft-soone,
780 In point to spille, as I shal telle yow soone.
781 Doun fro the castel comth ther many a wight
782 To gauren on this ship and on Custance,
783 But shortly from the castel on a nyght
784 The lordes styward, God yeve hym meschance!-
785 A theef that hadde reneyed oure creance,
786 Cam into the ship allone, and seyde he sholde
787 Hir lemman be, wherso she wolde or nolde.
788 Wo was this wrecched womman tho bigon!
789 Hir child cride, and she cride pitously,
790 But blisful Marie heelp hir right anon,
791 For with hir struglyng wel and myghtily,
792 The theef fil over bord al sodeynly,30
793 And in the see he dreynte for vengeance,
794 And thus hath Crist unwemmed kept Custance.
795 O foule lust of luxurie, lo, thyn ende!
796 Nat oonly that thou feyntest mannes mynde,
797 But verraily thou wolt his body shende.
798 Thende of thy werk or of thy lustes blynde
799 Is compleynyng; hou many oon may men fynde,
800 That noght for werk somtyme, but for thentente
801 To doon this synne, been outher slayn or shente!
802 How may this wayke womman han this strengthe
803 Hir to defende agayn this renegat?
804 O Golias, unmesurable of lengthe,
805 Hou myghte David make thee so maat,
806 So yong, and of armure so desolaat?
807 Hou dorste he looke upon thy dredful face?
808 Wel may men seen, it nas but Goddes grace!
809 Who yaf Judith corage or hardynesse
810 To sleen hym, Olofernus, in his tente,
811 And to deliveren out of wrecchednesse
812 The peple of God? I seyde, for this entente
813 That right as God spirit of vigour sente
814 To hem, and saved hem out of meschance,
815 So sente he myght and vigour to Custance.
816 Forth gooth hir ship thurghout the narwe mouth
817 Of Jubaltar and Septe, dryvynge alway,
818 Somtyme west, and somtyme north and south,
819 And somtyme est, ful many a wery day;
820 Til Cristes mooder-blessed be she ay!-
821 Hath shapen, thurgh hir endelees goodnesse,
822 To make an ende of al hir hevynesse.
823 Now lat us stynte of Custance but a throwe,
824 And speke we of the Romayn Emperour,
825 That out of Surrye hath by lettres knowe
826 The slaughtre of cristen folk, and dishonour
827 Doon to his doghter by a fals traytour,
828 I mene the cursed wikked Sowdanesse,
829 That at the feeste leet sleen both moore and lesse;
830 For which this emperour hath sent anon
831 His senatour with roial ordinance,
832 And othere lordes, God woot many oon,
833 On Surryens to taken heigh vengeance.
834 They brennen, sleen, and brynge hem to meschance
835 Ful many a day, but shortly, this is thende,
836 Hoomward to Rome they shapen hem to wende.
837 This senatour repaireth with victorie
838 To Romeward saillynge ful roially,
839 And mette the ship dryvynge, as seith the storie,
840 In which Custance sit ful pitously.
841 No thyng ne knew he what she was, ne why
842 She was in swich array, ne she nyl seye
843 Of hir estat, thogh that she sholde deye.
844 He bryngeth hir to Rome, and to his wyf
845 He yaf hir, and hir yonge sone also,
846 And with the senatour she ladde hir lyf.
847 Thus kan oure Lady bryngen out of wo
848 Woful Custance, and many another mo.
849 And longe tyme dwelled she in that place,
850 In hooly werkes evere, as was hir grace.
851 The senatoures wyf hir aunte was,
852 But for all that she knew hir never the moore-
853 I wol no lenger tarien in this cas,
854 But to kyng Alla, which I spake of yoore,
855 That wepeth for his wyf and siketh soore,
856 I wol retourne, and lete I wol Custance
857 Under the senatoures governance.
858 Kyng Alla, which that hadde his mooder slayn,
859 Upon a day fil in swich repentance
860 That, if I shortly tellen shal and playn,
861 To Rome he comth, to receyven his penance,
862 And putte hym in the popes ordinance
863 In heigh and logh, and Jesu Crist bisoghte
864 Foryeve hise wikked werkes that he wroghte.
865 The fame anon thurgh Rome toun is born
866 How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,
867 By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn,
868 For which the Senatour, as was usage,
869 Rood hym agayns, and many of his lynage,
870 As wel to shewen his heighe magnificence
871 As to doon any kyng a reverence.
872 Greet cheere dooth this noble Senatour
873 To kyng Alla, and he to hym also,
874 Everich of hem dooth oother greet honour;
875 And so bifel, that inwith a day or two
876 This senatour is to kyng Alla go
877 To feste; and shortly, if I shal nat lye,
878 Custances sone wente in his compaignye.
879 Som men wolde seyn, at requeste of Custance
880 This senatour hath lad this child to feeste;
881 I may nat tellen every circumstance,
882 Be as be may, ther was he at the leeste,
883 But sooth is this, that at his moodres heeste
884 Biforn Alla durynge the metes space,
885 The child stood lookynge in the kynges face.
886 This Alla kyng hath of this child greet wonder,
887 And to the senatour he seyde anon,
888 Whos is that faire child, that stondeth yonder?
889 I noot, quod he, by God and by Seint John!
890 A mooder he hath, but fader hath he noon,
891 That I of woot. But shortly, in a stounde,
892 He tolde Alla how that this child was founde.
893 But God woot, quod this senatour also,
894 So vertuous a lyver in my lyf31
895 Ne saugh I nevere as she, ne herde of mo
896 Of worldly wommen, mayde, ne of wyf;
897 I dar wel seyn, hir hadde levere a knyf
898 Thurghout hir brest, than ben a womman wikke,
899 There is no man koude brynge hir to that prikke.
900 Now was this child as lyke unto Custance,
901 As possible is a creature to be.
902 This Alla hath the face in remembrance
903 Of dame Custance, and theron mused he,
904 If that the childes mooder were aught she
905 That is his wyf; and prively he sighte
906 And spedde hym fro the table that he myghte.
907 Parfay, thoghte he, fantome is in myn heed.
908 I oghte deme, of skilful juggement,
909 That in the salte see my wyf is deed.
910 And afterward he made his argument:
911 What woot I, if that Crist have hyder ysent
912 My wyf by see, as wel as he hir sente
913 To my contree fro thennes that she wente?
914 And, after noon, hoom with the senatour
915 Goth Alla, for to seen this wonder chaunce.
916 This senatour dooth Alla greet honour,
917 And hastifly he sente after Custance.
918 But trusteth weel, hir liste nat to daunce
919 Whan that she wiste wherfore was that sonde;
920 Unnethe upon hir feet she myghte stonde.
921 Whan Alla saugh his wyf, faire he hir grette,
922 And weep, that it was routhe for to see.
923 For at the firste look he on hir sette,
924 He knew wel verraily that it was she.
925 And she for sorwe as doumb stant as a tree,
926 So was hir herte shet in hir distresse,
927 Whan she remembred his unkyndenesse.
928 Twyes she swowned in his owene sighte.
929 He weep, and hym excuseth pitously.
930 Now God, quod he, and alle hise halwes brighte32
931 So wisly on my soule as have mercy,
932 That of youre harm as giltelees am I
933 As is Maurice my sone, so lyk youre face;
934 Elles the feend me fecche out of this place!
935 Long was the sobbyng and the bitter peyne
936 Er that hir woful hertes myghte cesse,
937 Greet was the pitee for to heere hem pleyne,
938 Thurgh whiche pleintes gan hir wo encresse.
939 I pray yow alle my labour to relesse;
940 I may nat telle hir wo until tomorwe,
941 I am so wery for to speke of sorwe.
942 But finally, whan that the sothe is wist,
943 That Alla giltelees was of hir wo,
944 I trowe an hundred tymes been they kist,33
945 And swich a blisse is ther bitwix hem two,
946 That save the joye that lasteth everemo
947 Ther is noon lyk that any creature
948 Hath seyn, or shal, whil that the world may dure.
949 Tho preyde she hir housbonde mekely,
950 In relief of hir longe pitous pyne,
951 That he wolde preye hir fader specially
952 That, of his magestee, he wolde enclyne
953 To vouchesauf som day with hym to dyne.
954 She preyde hym eek, he wolde by no weye
955 Unto hir fader no word of hir seye.
956 Som men wolde seyn, how that the child Maurice
957 Dooth this message unto this emperour,
958 But, as I gesse, Alla was nat so nyce
959 To hym that was of so sovereyn honour,
960 As he that is of cristen folk the flour,
961 Sente any child, but it is bet to deeme
962 He wente hymself, and so it may wel seeme.
963 This emperour hath graunted gentilly
964 To come to dyner, as he hym bisoughte,
965 And wel rede I he looked bisily
966 Upon this child, and on his doghter thoghte.
967 Alla goth to his in, and as him oghte
968 Arrayed for this feste in every wise
969 As ferforth as his konnyng may suffise.
970 The morwe cam, and Alla gan hym dresse
971 And eek his wyf, this emperour to meete,
972 And forth they ryde in joye and in galdnesse,
973 And whan she saugh hir fader in the strete,
974 She lighte doun and falleth hym to feete.
975 Fader, quod she, youre yonge child Custance
976 Is now ful clene out of youre remembrance.
977 I am youre doghter Custance, quod she,
978 That whilom ye han sent unto Surrye.
979 It am I, fader, that in the salte see
980 Was put allone, and dampned for to dye.
981 Now goode fader, mercy I yow crye,
982 Sende me namoore unto noon hethenesse,
983 But thonketh my lord heere of his kyndenesse.
984 Who kan the pitous joye tellen al
985 Bitwix hem thre, syn they been thus ymette?
986 But of my tale make an ende I shal,
987 The day goth faste, I wol no lenger lette.
988 This glade folk to dyner they hem sette,
989 In joye and blisse at mete I lete hem dwelle,
990 A thousand foold wel moore than I kan telle.
991 This child Maurice was sithen emperour
992 Maad by the pope, and lyved cristenly.
993 To Cristes chirche he dide greet honour;
994 But I lete all his storie passen by-
995 Of Custance is my tale specially-
996 In the olde Romayn geestes may men fynde
997 Maurices lyf, I bere it noght in mynde.
998
999 This kyng Alla, whan he his tyme say,
1000 With his Custance, his hooly wyf so sweete,
1001 To Engelond been they come the righte way,
1002 Wher as they lyve in joye and in quiete.
1003 But litel while it lasteth, I yow heete,34
1004 Joye of this world, for tyme wol nat abyde,
1005 Fro day to nyght it changeth as the tyde.
1006 Who lyved evere in swich delit o day
1007 That hym ne moeved outher conscience
1008 Or ire, or talent, or som-kyn affray,
1009 Envye, or pride, or passion, or offence?
1010 I ne seye but for this ende this sentence,
1011 That litel while in joye or in plesance
1012 Lasteth the blisse of Alla with Custance.
1013 For deeth, that taketh of heigh and logh his rente,35
1014 Whan passed was a yeer, evene as I gesse,
1015 Out of this world this kyng Alla he hente,
1016 For whom Custance hath ful greet hevynesse.
1017 Now lat us praye God his soule blesse,
1018 And dame Custance, finally to seye,
1019 Toward the toun of Rome goth hir weye.
1020 To Rome is come this hooly creature,
1021 And fyndeth ther hir freendes hoole and sounde.
1022 Now is she scaped al hire aventure,
1023 And whan that she hir fader hath yfounde,
1024 Doun on hir knees falleth she to grounde,
1025 Wepynge for tendrenesse, in herte blithe,36
1026 She heryeth God an hundred thousande sithe.
1027 In vertu and in hooly almus-dede
1028 They lyven alle, and never asonder wende
1029 Til deeth departed hem; this lyf they lede;-
1030 And fareth now weel, my tale is at an ende.
1031 Now Jesu Crist, that of his myght may sende
1032 Joye after wo, governe us in his grace,
1033 And kepe us alle that been in this place. Amen.