The Canterbury Tales

THE CANTERBURY TALES

death. There can be no doubt about it. In the patterns of the stars can be seen, as if in a glass, the death of every man. Yet who can interpret them properly?

In ancient times the stars had foretold the death of Hector and of Achilles, of Caesar and of Pompey; their fates were decided before they were born. In the heavens could be seen the siege of Thebes. The stars prefigured the death of Socrates, the adventures of Hercules and the misfortunes of Sampson. Yet the wit of man is dull. He cannot see what is above him.

The sultan consulted his privy council and – to cut this story short – he told them of his intention to possess Constance by any means he could. If he could not have her, he said, then he was as good as dead. So he charged them with the task of discovering a way his wish might be granted. How could he get hold of her?

Diverse courtiers said diverse things. They argued between themselves and canvassed many opinions. They had plenty of ideas, of course. Some advised the use of magic, while others suggested even more deceitful methods. And yet finally they concluded that the only way to win her was to marry her. It was the best and simplest solution.

But then they realized the difficulties. To be quite plain about it, there was such a difference between the laws of East and West that it would be very difficult to find any accommodation. 'No Christian ruler,' they said to the sultan, 'would dream of marrying his daughter to one who professed the sweet teaching of Mahomet. Blessed be the prophet.'

The sultan gave a firm reply. 'Rather than lose Constance, then, I will be baptized as a Christian. She must be mine.

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There is nothing else to be said. No. Please. There can be no argument about this. Either I have her or I will die. So go on your way without delay. Travel to Rome. Bring back the woman who has plunged me into such distress.'

What else need I say? There were negotiations and embassies between the two realms. The pope was obliged to mediate between them, too. The princes of the Church, and the princes of the Roman court, were all involved. The Romans themselves were agreed that this was a good opportunity for augmenting the Christian communion. It represented a triumph against idolatry.

So these were the terms of the treaty. The sultan and all his kin, as well as the members of his court and government, would be baptized as Christians. After that ceremony was performed, the sultan was free to marry Constance. A great sum of gold was also to be paid to Rome, in surety of his good intentions. The pact was duly signed by both parties. Oh Constance, God help you!

Some people would now expect me to describe the feasts and celebrations arranged by the emperor for his daughter. But I do not have space to enumerate all the details of the festivities. I can only say that they were magnificent. It was, after all, a noble occasion.

It was agreed that Constance would be accompanied on her journey by many bishops. Travelling with her would also be lords and ladies of renown. There were others with her, too, but I cannot remember them all. Then it was proclaimed throughout Rome that the citizens should pray for her, and invoke the blessing of Jesus Christ upon the marriage.

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So the day came for her departure. That woeful day, that fatal day, could not be avoided. Everyone came out on to the streets. Constance herself was overcome with sorrow. She arose that morning, pale and trembling, and dressed herself for the journey. She knew that there was no other course.

Who can wonder at her tears? She was being sent to a strange land, far away from the friends she had loved. She was being placed under the dominion of a man about whom she knew nothing. Husbands, of course, are always good and considerate. Just ask their wives. I say no more.

'Father,' Constance said, 'take leave of your wretched daughter. And you, Mother, who has brought me up so tenderly. I have loved you both. You have been most precious to me – more precious than anything, except the Saviour on high. I commend myself to your prayers, now that I am about to depart for Syria. I will never see you again.

'It is your will that I travel to a barbarian nation. So be it. May Christ, who died for our sins, give me the strength to obey His commands. I am only a weak female. It is no matter if I die. Women are born to servitude and punishment. It is ordained that they should be ruled by men.'

There was never such weeping heard when Troy fell in flames, or when Thebes was taken, or when Rome was wounded by Hannibal. The tears and laments echoed through her chambers. But she had no choice. She was obliged to go.

Oh first mover, outer sphere of heaven, inflexible and cruel! You are the power that moves all things from east to west, that makes the stars revolve in their unnatural course. It was you who put Mars in the ascendant at the beginning of this

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dangerous voyage. It was you who cast a blight upon the marriage.

Inauspicious ascent, bleak and tortuous in effect! Unhappy Mars must fall out of his place into the darkest house of all, the house of Saturn. Oh feeble moon, of unfortunate fate! You move into a place where you are not welcomed. You are banished from your blessed haven. Such are the movements of the spheres.

And as for you, imprudent emperor of Rome, Constance 's father, was there no wise man in the city? Is one time no better than another in Rome? Surely you had an astrologer in your court who could have determined the proper moment for such a voyage? Was there no one who could cast Constance 's horoscope? Or are all the Romans stupid or slow-witted?

So the woeful maid is conducted to the ship with every formality and every ceremony. 'Jesus Christ be with you all,' she cried out from the deck. And the crowd shouted out, 'Farewell! Farewell Constance!' They had no more to say. She tried to maintain her composure, but it was difficult. Now I must leave her on the high seas and return once more to Syria.

The mother of the sultan, a woman who was a pit of vice, knew all about her son's intentions; the sultaness had heard that he was about to abandon his old religion. So she sent for her own privy council. They gathered in the palace according to her instructions, and when they were all assembled together she told them her plan.

'Lords,' she said, 'you all know well enough that my son is about to turn away from the laws of the Koran, vouchsafed to Mahomet by God Himself, and to do great dishonour to our

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holy religion. But I make my vow, before you all, that I would rather die than disobey the least one of our religious laws.

'What will happen to us if we accept this new dispensation? We will be the slaves of Rome. But that is not the worst of it. If we renounce Mahomet, we will be consigned to everlasting torment. No. It cannot be. But, my lords, I have a plan. Will you follow me in the enterprise I am about to reveal? Assuredly it will save us all.'

They assented, and swore an oath that they would all live or die by her side. They would persuade all of their friends and colleagues, too, to support and protect her. So, assured of their fealty, she began to describe to them the scheme that she had contrived.

'First of all,' she said, 'we will pretend to embrace the false religion. A little baptismal water will not affect us. I will then throw such a feast and festival that the sultan will be paid back in kind. This heathen girl may be as white as the day she was baptized but, by the time I have finished with her, she will need more than holy water to wash away the blood. A Christian font will not be enough.'

Oh sultaness, root of iniquity! You are a harpie, unnatural and accursed. You are a reptile with a woman's face, as wicked as the serpent who lies coiled in hell. You are false and fraudulent, confounding good and evil with your malice. You are a nest of vices.

Dreadful Satan, you have been watchful and malicious ever since you fell from heaven. You know how to entrap women. It was you who tempted Eve, the source of all our woe. Now you wish to destroy this Christian marriage. And what

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will be the instrument of your guile? Alas it will be another woman.

I will get on with the story. So the evil sultaness, having dismissed her council with an oath of secrecy, rode out to visit her son. She informed him that she was willing to renounce her faith, and receive baptism at the hands of the Christian priests. She was sorry, she said, that she had remained a heathen for such a long time!

Then she asked permission to organize a great feast for the visiting Christians. 'I will do everything in my power,' she said, 'to make them welcome.'

'It shall be done as you wish,' he replied. Then he kneeled down before her and thanked her for her thoughtfulness. He was overcome.

She kissed her son, and went on her way.

PART TWO

So, after a long journey by sea and land, the Christian legation eventually arrived in Syria. They were an impressive gathering of dignitaries. As soon as the sultan heard of their approach he sent a message to his mother, telling her that his new wife had come and urging her to welcome Constance nobly for the honour of the realm. He also announced the news to the rest of the country.

The throng was great, and the show very splendid, when the Syrians and the Christians finally greeted each other. The sultaness could not have been more charming or more gracious in her greeting to them all. She was especially nice to Constance, whom she received as tenderly as any mother

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would receive her favourite child. So they proceeded slowly towards the city, riding side by side in perfect amity.

I know nothing about the triumphal processions of Julius Caesar, except for the description in Lucan's Pharsalia . But I do not suppose that they were any more rich, or more spectacular, than the procession of Constance into Damascus. Yet this was the time when the scorpion of Syria, the wicked demon of the royal family, was preparing herself. The sultaness, for all her smiles and gracious words, was getting ready to use her deadly sting.

The sultan himself then rode out to greet his bride with great fanfare and display. He welcomed her with joy, and wonder, at her beauty. So, for the time being, I will leave them to their happiness. I will come soon enough to the heart of the matter. The rest of the day was spent in revelry and sport, until the company agreed that it was time to rest.

Then the moment arrived for the banquet that the sultaness had organized. All of the Christians, young and old alike, were invited to attend. All the guests would be able to enjoy royal luxury, and to feast upon the most rare and delicate foods in the world. And yet, alas, they soon paid too high a price for them.

Woe is always the consequence of bliss. Sorrow follows prosperity, and suffering succeeds joy. That is the way of the world. Follow this advice for the sake of your well-being. If you ever experience happiness, keep in mind the day when it will end. Nothing abides.

I will be brief. While they were at this feast all the guests, Syrian and Christian, were stabbed or cut to pieces. All of

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them were killed, with the exception of Constance herself. And who do you think had murdered them? The sultaness, of course, together with her henchmen. The old hag wanted to rule the country alone. She had even murdered her own son.

All of the converts to Christianity, who had changed their faith on the instructions of the sultan, were killed before they could escape. Constance herself was immediately dragged to the port, where she was put on a boat without sail or rudder. They told her that it was her chance to learn how to sail, and bid her to go back to Italy.

She had managed to take some of her possessions with her. The Syrians had also given her food and drink, as well as a change of clothing. So off she floated on to the salt sea. Oh dear Constance, dearest of the dear, young daughter of the emperor, may Christ the Saviour be your pilot!

So Constance blessed herself and, holding the crucifix before her, she wept and prayed. 'Oh sacred altar, holy cross, red with the blood of the Holy Lamb spilled in pity for this world of sin, keep me safe from the claws of the devil. Safeguard my soul when I drown in the deep.

'Tree of victory, holy rood, cross of truth, preserve me. Oh tree that bore the sweet weight of our wounded Saviour, guard me. Oh white Lamb, pierced by the spear, who drives away the evil spirits, cast your grace around me. Help me to amend my life and do penance for my sins.'

Her fortune carried her across the eastern Mediterranean, and into the Strait of Gibraltar. She ate only meagre meals as she drifted onward. The days became months, and the months

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became years. There were many occasions when she prepared herself for death. She did not know if the wild waves would take her to a shore or harbour.

Why was she not killed at the feast in Damascus? Who could have saved her? I will answer that question with another. Who saved Daniel in the lion's den? How did Daniel survive when every other man had been killed and eaten by the creature? God saved him. God was in his heart.

In the same way God has shown His wonderful providence in the life of Constance; in her survival we see the miracle of His power. Christ is the cure for every ill. The scholars know that He works by mysterious means, and that His intentions cannot be understood by us. Our wit is too weak.

Who saved Constance from drowning in the sea? Who saved Jonah in the belly of the whale? We know well enough that he was spewed out at Nineveh unharmed. Who saved the Israelites from the waves of the Red Sea, when they passed through the raging waters on a path of dry land? God saved them.

Who commanded the four angels of the tempest? They were given the power to direct the winds of the world from north and south, from east and west. But God said to them, 'Trouble not the smallest leaf that trembles. Trouble neither the land nor the sea.' The Lord protected Constance from the tempest, too, and the mantle of His care covered her by night and by day.

How can it be that Constance had meat and drink enough for three long years of voyaging? Who saved the holy hermit, Saint Mary of Egypt, when she dwelled in the wilderness? It

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was no one else but Christ the Saviour. It was a great miracle when the crowd of five thousand were fed by five loaves and two fishes. A greater miracle still is God's love. He sent His succour to Constance at her time of need.

So she floated across the wide world, until she came to our own ocean and our own fierce northern seas. She was washed ashore on the coast of Northumberland, beneath the walls of a castle; when her ship was run aground, it stuck so fast in the sands that the rise and fall of the tide could not move it. It was Christ's wish that she should stay here.

The governor of the castle came down to the shore to view the wreckage; he searched the ship, and of course found the poor weary woman. He also found the treasure Constance had brought with her. Then in her own tongue she beseeched him for deliverance. 'Take my life from me,' she begged him. 'Release me from the misery I am suffering.'

She spoke a corrupt form of Latin, but it was good enough for the governor to understand her. When he saw that there was nothing else to find on the vessel, he conducted her on to dry land. She kneeled down and kissed the ground, thanking God for His mercy to her. But she would not tell anyone who she was or where she had come from. Nothing, good or ill, would make her speak.

She said that she was so bewildered by the wild waves that she had, in truth, lost her memory. The governor of the castle and his wife, Hermengyld, took pity on her. They wept at her condition. Constance herself was so gracious and courteous – she was so willing to please all the people about her – that she became universally loved.

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