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Now, Constance fair, may great God be your guide! Now would some men expect, as I may guess, That I should tell of all the purveyance The Canterbury Tales The Canterbury Tales 96The emperor, of his great nobleness, Has destined for his daughter, fair Constance. But men must know that so great ordinance May no one tell within a little clause As was arrayed there for so high a cause. Bishops were named who were with her to wend, Ladies and lords and knights of high renown, And other folk but I will make an end, Except that it was ordered through the town That everyone, with great devotion shown, Should pray to Christ that He this marriage lead To happy end, and the long voyage speed. The day is come, at last, for leavetaking, I say, the woeful, fatal day is come, When there may be no longer tarrying, But to go forth make ready all and some; Constance, who was with sorrow overcome, Rose, sad and pale, and dressed herself to wend; For well she saw there was no other end. Alas! What wonder is it that she wept? She shall be sent to a strange. country, far From friends that her so tenderly have kept, And bound to one her joy to make or mar Whom she knows not, nor what his people are. Husbands are all good, and have been of yore, That know their wives, but I dare say no more. "Father," she said, "your wretched child, Constance, Your daughter reared in luxury so soft, And you, my mother, and my chief pleasance, Above all things, save Christ Who rules aloft, Constance your child would be remembered oft Within your prayers, for I to Syria go, Nor shall I ever see you more, ah no! "Unto the land of Barbary my fate Compels me now, because it is your will; But Christ, Who died to save our sad estate, So give me grace, His mandates I'll fulfill; I, wretched woman, though I die, 'tis nil. Women are born to slave and to repent, And to be subject to man's government." I think, at Troy, when Pyrrhus broke the wall; When Ilium burned; when Thebes fell, that city; At Rome, for all the harm from Hannibal, Who vanquished Roman arms in campaigns three I think was heard no weeping for pity As in the chamber at her leavetaking; Yet go she must, whether she weep or sing.