The Lady Constance
The Man of Law’s Tale, from The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
Excerpts from the letters of Lady Constance, Empress of Rome, Once Queen of Northumberland, and briefly, the Sultana of Syria.
‘Songs echoed through the square and bazaar celebrating my unearthly beauty and saint-like virtue. These artful embellishments were then carefully whispered into the ears of every visiting Syrian merchant dignitary. The pot simmered a year till the Sultan’s inevitable offer of marriage arrived. Graciously acquiescing, I set off with all due occasion, concealing the treasured tools of my secret trade beneath a wedding retinue of gold and sword.’
‘Never enter a situation lacking an escape. That is the first lesson. So, when I sensed the danger my new mother-in-law embodied, I was ready. My husband attempted our defence and paid his life for’t; a scimitar rising from his chest like a glittering half-moon. I fought free to a balcony and let fall to the cloth awning two floors below, rolling over and landing feet first, glad of my break-fall training. I took to toes and set to sea with all haste.
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To read the sun and stars is the second lesson, so navigation offered no obstacle, but the ports of Morocco and Greece held folk who knew of Lady Constance, and fame can be hindrance, so on I went, for a year and some months.’
‘In Northumberland I found the King’s right-hand man, a constable of the castle, and found favour with his family by donning the familiar guise of wanton chastity, but on my name pleaded memory loss for safety’s sake. I lodged with them and did charitable works about the town to gain fame, hoping to draw the Kings eye, but as the months passed, I found myself chaffing under the yolk of impersonating such a fanciful character.
My release came when a young Knight, upon recognising my face, attempted first love, then blackmail. Stung to anger by rebuttal, he spoke my true name before Lady Hermengild, the constable’s wife, and this presented a regrettable, yet tactically beneficial opportunity. In his presence I cut the lady’s throat and made mirth at his terror. The husband arrested me, and presented us before the court of King Alla, where I fell to my knees weeping innocence, biding time and waiting for the optimum moment to strike.
It came when the knight swore to my guilt on his English Gospel. Open hand, as taught by the Persian masters, I struck him sharp across the neck, and he fell as a tree in the wood, eyes popping from his head. Now my treasure, so long guarded, found its worth, for ’tis a folded horn that amplifies sound so a man may be thought a giant when speaking through’t. A paid stooge, squatting like a gargoyle high in the rafters, spoke the words we had already rehearsed well enough, and t’was as if the very voice of God shook the Great Hall. All, including the King, fell to their knees in abject awe. T’was a simple thing afterwards to become Queen to Alla’s King, convert his kingdom to the true faith, and then duly institute the tithe.’
‘This house, where I nursed you from boy to man, was built entirely on tithes paid by The Kingdom of Northumberland to Rome.’
‘You must take from this world Maurice, for it will not give freely.’
