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,1662
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, Marý,
Sooth is, that through a woman’s eggement1663
Mankind was lorn,1664 and damned aye to die;
For which thy child was on a cross y-rent:1665
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:1666
Now, lady bright, to whom the woeful cryen,
Thou glory of womanhood, thou fairë may,1667
Thou haven of refuge, bright star of day,
Rue1668 on my child, that of thy gentleness
Ruest on every rueful1669 in distress.
“O little child, alas! what is thy guilt,
That never wroughtest sin as yet, pardie?1670
Why will thine hardë1671 father have thee spilt?1672
O mercy, dearë 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 onës in his father’s name.”
Therewith she looked backward to the land,
And saidë, “Farewell, husband ruthëless!”1673
And up she rose, and walked down the strand
Toward the ship, her following all the press:1674
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,1675
Abundantly for her a full long space:
And other necessaries that should need1676
She had enough, heried1677 be Goddë’s grace:
For wind and weather, Almighty God purchase,1678
And bring her home; I can no better say;
But in the sea she drived forth her way.
Allá 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 saidë; “Lord, as ye commanded me
On pain of death, so have I done certáin.”
The messenger tormented1679 was, till he
Mustë beknow,1680 and tell it flat and plain,
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, certáinly I know nót.
Th’ effect is this, that Alla, out of drede,1681
His mother slew, that may men plainly read,
For that she traitor was to her liegeánce:1682
Thus ended oldë Donegild with mischance.
The sorrow that this Alla night and day
Made for his wife, and for his child also,
There is no tonguë that it tellë may.
But now will I again to Constance go,
That floated in the sea in pain and woe
Five year and more, as liked Christë’s sond,1683
Ere that her ship approached to the lond.1684
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 eftsoon1685
In point to spill,1686 as I shall tell you soon!
Down from the castle came there many a wight
To gauren1687 on this ship, and on Constance:
But shortly from the castle, on a night,
The lordë’s steward—God give him mischance—
A thief that had renied our creance,1688
Came to the ship alone, and said he would
Her leman1689 be, whether she would or n’ould.1690
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 drenched1691 for vengeánce,
And thus hath Christ unwemmed1692 kept Constánce.
O foul lust of luxúry! lo thine end!
Not only that thou faintest1693 mannë’s mind,
But verily thou wilt his body shend.1694
Th’ end of thy work, or of thy lustës blind,
Is cómplaining: 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 weakë woman have the strength
Her to defend against this renegate?
O Góliath, unmeasurable of length,
How mightë David makë thee so mate?1695
So young, and of armoúr so desolate,1696
How durst he look upon thy dreadful face?
Well may men see it was but Goddë’s grace.
Who gave Judith couráge 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,1697 driving alway,
Sometimë west, and sometime north and south,
And sometime east, full many a weary day:
Till Christë’s mother (blessed be she aye)
Had shapen1698 through her endëless goodness
To make an end of all her heaviness.
Now let us stint of Constance but a throw,1699
And speak we of the Roman emperor,
That out of Syria had by letters know
The slaughter of Christian folk, and dishonór
Done to his daughter by a false traitór—
I mean the cursed wicked Soudaness,
That at the feast let1700 slay both more and less.
For which this emperor had sent anon
His senator, with royal ordinance,
And other lordës, God wot, many a one,
On Syrians to takë high
