For three years she drifted under God’s guidance, and at last came to land in Northumberland, near a castle on the bank of Humber, which was kept by one Elda for the king of that land Allee, a Saxon and a worthy knight. Elda found her in the ship and committed her to the care of Hermyngheld his wife, who loved her and was converted by her. Hermyngheld in the name of Christ restored sight to a blind man, at which all wondered, and Elda was converted to the faith. On the morrow he rode to the king, and thinking to please him, who was then unwedded, told him of Constance. The king said he would come and see her. Elda sent before him a knight whom he trusted, and this knight had loved Constance, but she had rejected him, so that his love was turned to hate. When he came to the castle he delivered the message, and they prepared to receive the king; but in the night he cut the throat of Hermyngheld and placed the bloody knife under the bed where Constance lay. Elda came the same night and found his wife lying dead and Constance sleeping by her. The false knight accused Constance and discovered the knife where he had placed it. Elda was not convinced, and the knight swore to her guilt upon a book. Suddenly the hand of heaven smote him and his eyes fell out of his head, and a voice bade him confess the truth, which he did, and thereupon died. (714-885.)
After this the king came, and desiring to wed Constance, agreed to receive baptism. So a bishop came from Bangor in Wales and christened him and many more, and married Constance to the king. She would not tell who she was, but the king perceived that she was a noble creature. God visited her and she was with child, but the king was compelled to go out on a war, and left his wife with Elda and the bishop. A son was born and baptized by the name of Moris, and letters were written to the king, and the bearer of them, who had to pass by Knaresborough, stayed there to tell the news to the king’s mother Domilde. She in the night changed the letters for others, which said, as from the keepers of the queen, that she had been delivered of a monster. The messenger carried the letters to the king, who wrote back that they should keep his wife carefully till he came again. On his return the messenger stayed again at Knaresborough, and Domilde substituted a letter bidding them on pain of death place Constance and her child in the same ship in which she had come, and commit them to the sea. They grieved bitterly, but obeyed. She prayed to heaven for help and devoted herself to the care of the child (886-1083). After the end of that year the ship came to land near a castle in Spain, where a heathen admiral was lord, who had a steward named Theloüs, a false renegade. He came to see the ship and found Constance, but he let none else see her; and at night he returned, thinking to have her at his will. He swore to kill her if she resisted him, and she bade him look out at the port to see if any man was near: then on the prayer of Constance he was thrown out of the ship and drowned. A wind arose which took her from the land, and after three years she came to a place where a great navy lay. The lord of these ships questioned her, but she told him little, giving her name as Couste. He said that he came from taking vengeance on the Saracens for their treachery, but could hear no news of Constance. He was the Senator of Rome and was married to a niece of the Emperor named Heleine. She came to Rome with her child and dwelt with his wife till twelve years were gone, and none knew what she was, but all loved her well. (1084-1225.)
In the meantime king Allee discovered the treachery and took vengeance on his mother, who was burnt to death after confession of her guilt; and all said that she had well deserved her punishment and lamented for Constance. Having finished his wars, the king resolved to go to Rome for absolution, and leaving Edwyn his heir to rule the land, he set forth with Elda. Arcennus reported to his wife and to Couste the coming of king Allee, and Couste swooned for joy. The king, after seeing the Pope and relieving his conscience, made a feast, to which he invited the Senator and others. Moris went also, and his mother bade him stand at the feast in sight of the king. The king seeing him thought him like his wife Constance, and loved him without knowing why. He asked Arcennus if the child were his son, and from him he heard his story and the name of his mother. The king smiled at the name ‘Couste,’ knowing that it was Saxon for Constance, and was eager to ascertain the truth. After the feast he besought the Senator to bring him home to see this Couste, and never man was more joyful than he was when he saw his wife. (1226-1445.)
The king remained at Rome for a time with Constance, but still she did not tell him who she was. After a while she prayed him to make an honourable feast before he left the city and to invite the Emperor, who was at a place a few miles away from the city. Moris was sent to beseech him to come and eat with them, which request he granted; and at the time appointed they all went forth to meet the Emperor. Constance, riding forward to welcome him, made herself known to him as his daughter. His heart was overcome, as if he had seen the dead come to life again, and all present shed tears. So a parliament was held and Moris was named heir to the Emperor. King Allee and Constance returned home to the great joy of their land; but soon after this the king died, and Constance came again to Rome. After a short time the Emperor also died in her arms, and she herself in the next year following. Moris was crowned Emperor and known as ‘the most Christian.’ (1446-1598.)
Thus love at last prevailed and the false tongues were silenced. Beware then thou of envious backbiting and lying, and if thou wouldest know further what mischief is done by backbiting, hear now another tale. (1599-1612.)
Demetrius and Perseus. Philip king of Macedoine had two sons, Demetrius and Perseus. Demetrius the elder was the better knight, and he was heir to the kingdom; but Perseus had envy of him and slandered him to his father behind his back, saying that he had sold them to the Romans. Demetrius was condemned on suborned evidence and by a corrupt judge, and so put to death. Perseus then grew so proud that he disdained his father and usurped his power, so that the father perceived the wrong which had been done; but the other party was so strong that he could not execute justice, and thus he died of grief.
Then Perseus took the government and made war on Rome, gathering a great host. The Romans had a Consul named Paul Emilius, who took this war in hand. His little daughter wept when she parted from him, because her little dog named Perse was dead, and this seemed to him a prognostic of success, for Perseus had spoken against his brother like a dog barking behind a man’s back. Perseus rode with his host, not foreseeing the mischief, and he lost a large part of his army by the breaking of the ice of the Danube. Paulus attacked him and conquered both him and his land, so that Perseus himself died like a dog in prison, and his heir, who was exiled from his land, gained his bread by working at a craft in Rome. (1613-1861.)
Lo, my son, what evil is done by the Envy which endeavours to hinder another.
I will avoid it, my father; but say on, if there be more.
My son, there is a fourth, as deceptive as the guiles of a juggler, and this is called False Semblant. (1862-1878.)
1879-2319. FALSE SEMBLANT. This is above all the spring from which deceit flows. It seems fair weather on that flood; but it is not so in truth. False Semblant is allied with Hypocrisy, and Envy steers their boat. Therefore flee this vice and let thy semblant always be true. When Envy desires to deceive, it is False Semblant who is his messenger; and as the mirror shows what was never within it, so he shows in his countenance that which is not in his heart. Dost thou follow this vice, my son?
Nay, father, for ought I know; but question me, I pray you.
Tell me then, my son, if ever thou hast gained the confidence of any man in order to tell out his secrets and hinder him in his love. Dost thou practise such devices?
For the most part I say nay; but in some measure I confess I may be reckoned with those that use false colours. I feign to my fellow at times, until I know his counsels in love, and if they concern my lady, I endeavour to overthrow them. If they have to do with others than she, I break no covenant with him nor try to hinder him in his love; but with regard to her my ears and my heart are open to hear all that any man will say,--first that I may excuse her if they speak ill of her, and secondly that I may know who her lovers are. Then I tell tales of them to my lady, to hinder their suit and further mine. And though I myself have no help from it, I can conceal nothing from her which it concerns her to know. To him who loves not my lady, let him love as many others as he will, I feign no semblant, and his tales sink no deeper than my ears. Now, father, what is your doom and what pain must I suffer? (1879-2076.)
My son, all virtue should be praised and all vice blamed: therefore put no visor on thy face. Yet many men do so nowadays, and especially I hear how False Semblant goes with those whom we call Lombards, men who are cunning to feign that which is not, and who take from us the profit of our own land, while we bear the burdens. They have a craft called Fa crere, and against this no usher can bar the door. This craft discovers everything and makes it known in foreign lands to our grievous loss. Those who read in books the examples of this vice of False Semblant, will be the more on their guard against it. (2077-2144.)
Hercules and Deianira. I will tell thee a tale of False Semblant, and how Deianira and Hercules suffered by it. Hercules had cast his heart only upon this fair Deianira, and once he desired to pass over a river with her, but he knew not the ford. There was there a giant called Nessus, who envying Hercules thought to do him harm by treachery, since he dared not fight against him openly. Therefore, pretending friendship, he offered to carry the lady across and set her safe on the other shore. Hercules was well pleased, and Nessus took her upon his shoulder; but when he was on the further side, he attempted to carry her away with him. Hercules came after them and shot him with a poisoned arrow, but before he died he gave Deianira his shirt stained with his heart’s blood, telling her that if her lord were untrue, this shirt would make his love return to her. She kept it well in coffer and said no word. The years passed, and Hercules set his heart upon Eole, the king’s daughter of Eurice, so that he dressed himself in her clothes and she was clothed in his, and no remedy could be found for his folly. Deianira knew no other help, but took this shirt and sent it to him. The shirt set his body on fire, and clove to it so that it could not be torn away. He ran to the high wood and tore down trees and made a huge fire, into which he leapt and was burnt both flesh and bones. And all this came of the False Semblant which Nessus made. Therefore, my son, beware, since so great a man was thus lost. (2145-2312.)
Father, I will no more have acquaintance with False Semblant, and I will do penance for my former feigning. Ask more now, if more there be.
My son, there is yet the fifth which is conceived of Envy, and that is Supplantation, by means of which many have lost their labour in love as in other things. (2313-2326.)
2327-3110. SUPPLANTATION. This vice has often overthrown men and deprived them of their dignities. Supplantation obtains for himself the profit of other men’s loss, and raises himself upon their fall. In the same way there are lovers who supplant others and deprive them of what is theirs by right, reaping what others have sown. If thou hast done so, my son, confess.
For ought I know, father, I am guiltless in deed, but not so in thought. If I had had the power, I would long ago have made appropriation of other men’s love. But this only as regards one, for whom I let all others go. If I could, I would turn away her heart from her other lovers and supplant them, no matter by what device: but force I dare not use for fear of scandal. If this be sin, my father, I am ready to redress my guilt. (2327-2428.)
My son, God beholds a man’s thought, and if thou knewest what it were to be a supplanter in love, thou wouldest for thine own sake take heed. At Troy Agamenon supplanted Achilles, and Diomede Troilus. Geta and Amphitrion too were friends, and Geta was the lover of Almena: but when he was absent, Amphitrion made his way to her chamber and counterfeited his voice, whereby he obtained admittance to her bed. Geta came afterwards, but she refused to let him in, thinking that her lover already lay in her arms. (2429-2500.)
The False Bachelor. There was an Emperor of Rome who ruled in peace and had no wars. His son was chivalrous and desirous of fame, so he besought leave to go forth and seek adventures, but his father refused to grant it. At length he stole away with a knight whom he trusted, and they took service with the Soldan of Persia, who had war with the Caliph of Egypt. There this prince did valiantly and gained renown; moreover, he was overtaken by love of the Soldan’s fair daughter, so that his prowess grew more and more, and none could stand against him. At length the Soldan and the Caliph drew to a battle, and the Soldan took a gold ring of his daughter and commanded her, if he should fall in the fight, to marry the man who should produce this ring. In the battle this Roman did great deeds, and Egypt fled in his presence. As they of Persia pursued, an arrow struck the Soldan and he was borne wounded to a tent. Dying he gave his daughter’s ring to this knight of Rome. After his burial a parliament was appointed, and on the night before it met, this young lord told his secret to his bachelor and showed him the ring. The bachelor feigned gladness, but when his lord was asleep, he stole the ring from his purse and put another in its stead. When the court was set, the young lady was brought forth. The bachelor drew forth the ring and claimed her hand, which was allowed him in spite of protest, and so he was crowned ruler of the empire. His lord fell sick of sorrow, caring only for the loss of his love; and before his death he called the lords to him and sent a message to his lady, and wrote also a letter to his father the Emperor. Thus he died, and the treason was known. The false bachelor was sent to Rome on demand of the Emperor, to receive punishment there, and the dead body also was taken thither for burial. (2501-2781.)
Thus thou mayest be well advised, my son, not to do so; and above all when Pride and Envy are joined together, no man can find a remedy for the evil. Of this I find a true example in a chronicle of old time, showing how Supplant worked once in Holy Church. I know not if it be so now. (2782-2802.)
Pope Boniface. At Rome Pope Nicholas died, and the cardinals met in conclave to choose another Pope. They agreed upon a holy recluse full of ghostly virtues, and he was made Pope and called Celestin. There was a cardinal, however, who had long desired the papacy, and he was seized with such envy that he thought to supplant the Pope by artifice. He caused a young priest of his family to be appointed to the Pope’s chamber, and he told this man to take a trumpet of brass and by means of it speak to the Pope at midnight through the wall, bidding him renounce his dignity. This he did thrice; and the Pope, conceiving it to be a voice from heaven, asked the cardinals in consistory whether a Pope might resign his place. All sat silent except this cardinal of whom we have spoken, and he gave his opinion that the Pope could make a decree by which this might be done. He did so, and the cardinal was elected in his stead under the name of Boniface. But such treason cannot be hid; it is like the spark of fire in the roof, which when blown by the wind blazes forth. Boniface openly boasted of his device; and such was his pride that he took quarrel with Louis, King of France, and laid his kingdom under interdict. The king was counselled by his barons, and he sent Sir William de Langharet, with a company of men-at-arms, who captured the Pope at Pontsorge near Avignon and took him into France, where he was put in bonds and died of hunger, eating off both his hands. Of him it was said that he came in like a fox, reigned like a lion, and died like a dog. By his example let all men beware of gaining office in the Church by wrongful means. God forbid that it should be of our days that the Abbot Joachim spake, when he prophesied of the shameful traffic which should dishonour the Church of God. (2803-3084.)
Envy it was that moved Joab to slay Abner treacherously; and for Envy Achitophel hanged himself when his counsel was not preferred. Seneca says that Envy is the common wench who keeps tavern for the Court, and sells liquour which makes men drunk with desire to surpass their fellows. (3085-3110.)
Envy is in all ways unpleasant in love; the fire within dries up the blood which should flow kindly through his veins. He alone is moved by pure malice in that which he does. Therefore, my son, if thou wouldest find a way to love, put away Envy.
Reason would that I do so, father; but in order that I may flee from this vice, I pray you to tell me a remedy.
My son, as there is physic for the sick, so there are virtues for the vices, which quench them as water does a fire. Against Envy is set Charity, the mother of Pity, which causes a man to be willing to bear evil himself rather than that another should suffer. Hear from me a tale about this, and mark it well. (3111-3186.)
The Complete Works of John Gower, Volume 2 · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.