Imprudent emperour of Rome, allas!
Was ther no philosophre in al thy toun? 310
Is no tyme bet than other in swich cas?
Of viage is ther noon eleccioun,
Namely to folk of heigh condicioun,
Nat whan a rote is of a birthe y-knowe?
Allas! we ben to lewed or to slowe. 315
To shippe is brought this woful faire mayde
Solempnely, with every circumstance.
‘Now Iesu Crist be with yow alle,’ she sayde; (220)
Ther nis namore but ‘farewel! faire Custance!’
She peyneth hir to make good countenance, 320
And forth I lete hir sayle in this manere,
And turne I wol agayn to my matere.