Amongës other thingës, speciálly These merchants have him told of Dame Constance’ So great nobless, in earnest so royálly, That this Soudan hath caught so great pleasance To have her figure in his remembránce, That all his lust, and all his busy cure, Was for to love her while his life may dure.
Paráventure in thilkë largë book, Which that men call the heaven, y-written was With starrës, when that he his birthë took, That he for love should have his death, alas! For in the starrës, clearer than is glass, Is written, God wot, whoso could it read, The death of every man withoutë dread.
In starrës many a winter therebeforn Was writ the death of Hector, Achilles, Of Pompey, Julius, ere they were born; The strife of Thebes; and of Hercules, Of Samson, Turnus, and of Socrates The death; but mennë’s wittës be so dull, That no wight can well read it at the full.
This Soudan for his privy council sent, And, shortly of this matter for to pace, He hath to them declared his intent, And told them certain, but he might have grace To have Constance, within a little space, He was but dead; and charged them in hie To shapë for his life some remedy.
Diversë men diversë thingës said; And arguments they casten up and down; Many a subtle reason forth they laid; They speak of magic, and abusión; But finally, as in conclusión, They cannot see in that none ávantage, Nor in no other way, save marriáge.
Then saw they therein such difficulty By way of reason, for to speak all plain, Because that there was such diversity Between their bothë lawës, that they sayn, They trowë that no Christian prince would fain Wedden his child under our lawë sweet, That us was given by Mahound our prophéte.
And he answered: “Rather than I lose Constance, I will be christen’d doubtëless: I must be hers, I may none other choose, I pray you hold