'Mine host,' said he, 'I have no intention to break my covenant:—duty is a debt, and I cheerfully perform my best—I can say no more: for the law by which man restrains his fellow, he himself should abide by. Certain it is, however, that I can tell you no tale of merit, that this rogue Chaucer has not been beforehand with me: for, in one book or another, he has told more love-stories than Ovid himself, the great master of the art. Nevertheless, I care not, though I do come limping with my prose after his rhymes.' Having thus spoken, he in a sober style began the following tale.
THE STORY OF THE LADY CONSTANCE.
In Syria, in former days, there dwelt a company of rich merchants, who exported far and near their cloth-of-gold, rich satins, and spicery: their merchandise was so rare and excellent, that all were eager to deal and barter with them. Now it happened that some of these traders turned their course towards
