There was in Syria a great sultan. His' merchants travelled far
overseas and brought him back news and great riches. One company
reported to him the events in Rome. They had noticed especially the
wonderful beauty of the Emperor of Rome's daughter, Constance. They
never wearied of telling of her loveliness, her goodness and her
courtesy, until the sultan's heart burned for love of her, and he
knew that unless she became his bride he would die.

Now Constance was a Christian, and the sultan a Mohammedan; yet to
win the lady of his love the sultan was converted, and he and many of
his followers were baptised. At last the emperor consented that his.
daughter should marry the sultan. She set sail for Syria very
woefully. "Father," she said, "must I, thy darling daughter, set
forth on this perilous journey, and live in a far land, a Christian
among unbelievers? Must I never see my dear parents again? Alas,
woman has no power of her own! In youth her father rules her; when
she is old her husband is her lord. But Christ and Christ's Mother
will preserve me. In them is my trust." So with tears she started,
and her maidens wept with her. None the less, when the ship came to
land she put away her grief and bore herself as became a bride.

The sultan in splendid array, with all his court in attendance, came
and met her at the water-side, and received her with all solemnity.
Amid revelling and noble pageantry he led her to the palace.

But under the flowers there lurked a scorpion, the queen-mother. Ah!
root of wickedness, filled full of guile, fierce worshipper of false
gods! She had plotted death to all Christians, and at the feast slew
every Roman except Constance herself. Not even the sultan, her own