The Return to Rome
(NLC, 433-83; CA, II, 1126-1225)
Duane Graner

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After spending a lengthy amount of time in banishment on the high seas, Constance and her son Maurice make contact with a band of sailors in Trevet’s version of Constance’s tale.  In this scene, which is about 600 words in length, these men bring Constance before the Roman senator Arsenius, who then becomes Constance’s means of returning to Rome.  Constance’s voyage plays out thus in this summary of Trevet’s narrative:

After sailing around the ocean in exile for five years, Constance catches sight of a large naval fleet in a city harbor.  The sailors spot Constance’s boat from the land and, assuming that the ship is deserted, set out to investigate.  They instead discover Constance, her five year-old son, and her riches, as well as the fact that she has meager rations.  These men ask Constance some questions before escorting her to the city and leading her to the palace of a man she knows: Arsenius, a Roman senator and the commander of the naval fleet.  While Constance is aware of his worthy qualities and his loving devotion to her father, Emperor Tiberius, she is glad that Arsenius is unaware of her own true identity.  In answering Arsenius’s multiple questions about her past, she deftly obscures any information about her heritage or her connections to the emperor, such as by telling him that her name is Couste, which is Saxon in origin.  Constance inquires about the massive fleet in the harbor, to which Arsenius replies that they represent Tiberius’s forces that were sent to attack the sultaness and the murderous Saracens for their treachery against the emperor’s Christian allies.  He also reveals that while every Saracen was killed and none of the Christian soldiers received any injuries, no one found the remains of Constance, who was reported by the Saracens to have drowned.  Constance then asks Arsenius if she could accompany him to Rome, a request that Arsenius happily grants.  Upon landing in Rome, Arsenius commends Constance to the care of his wife, Helen, a goodly and virtuous woman who is Constance’s cousin.  While Helen does not recognize Constance, she nevertheless finds unprecedented joy in loving and caring for Constance and her son.  As Constance and Maurice stay with the childless couple, Arsenius and Helen, for twelve years, the senator and his wife show parental love and affection toward Maurice and announce that he will be the couple’s heir.

Gower composes this part of Constance’s tale with distinctive touches that deviate from the details of Trevet’s story, with Gower’s scene being over 620 words long:

As a part of God’s design, Constance’s three-year exile at sea culminates with her ship approaching a massive armada.  Her ship drifts among and between the crafts, eventually stopping under the main vessel.  The lord of this fleet observes Constance’s boat and commands his men to descend into it and see what it contains.  Constance attempts to hide from these naval officers for fear of being discovered, but they uncover the mother and her son and take them to the inquisitive lord of the fleet, who interrogates her about where she came from, who she is, and what her religious beliefs are.  While she divulges that she is a Christian, she prevents the lord from knowing too much about her.  She reveals only that her husband ordered her and Moris to go to sea.  After telling the lord that her name is Couste, she resolves to restrain her speech and not say another word about her situation.  The lord then asks if Constance wants to join him on his voyage to Rome.  After accepting his offer enthusiastically, Constance learns that the lord has just been waging a war against the treacherous murderers in Barbarie who had many years earlier killed Constance’s Roman companions and set her adrift; the lord’s forces killed the Barbarie murderers, but nobody knew what happened to Constance.  Then, the lord’s identity emerges in the story: he is a Roman senator who is married to Heleine, Constance’s cousin.  Upon their arrival in Rome, the lord entrusts “Couste” and Moris to the company of his good wife, who is happy to have this new companionship.  Twelve years pass as Constance lives with the lord and his wife, and, while no one ascertains her identity or high status, all of the citizens show her love.

Gower’s account of Constance’s return to Rome bears some resemblance to Trevet’s depiction of the scene.  At the same time, however, the differences between Trevet’s and Gower’s versions are significant and merit further examination.  Gower’s alterations of the scene lend insight into what he attempts to achieve through his retelling of Constance’s journey.  Specifically, Gower accentuates the ominous as Constance approaches the naval fleet, turns the discovery of Constance into a more harrowing situation, initially withholds expository information about the Roman senator’s character, and stresses the intense effort that Constance makes in restricting her own speech.

One major change that Gower brings about in his version of Constance’s tale is the addition of an ominous tone that surrounds the moment in which Constance comes upon the naval fleet.  Trevet had undercut any real sense of dread in the moment that Constance caught sight of the naval fleet by portraying God as a considerate and well-meaning guide.  Thus, Trevet’s depiction of God kept the presence of the approaching sailors from seeming too menacing as he guided Constance towards them.  Also destabilizing any portent of doom was the hopeful sight of the city and its harbor.  The presence of the harbor—a place where ships could claim shelter from the tumult and unpredictability of the ocean—symbolically represented the notion that a positive end was in sight for Constance, especially when one considered the juxtaposition of God’s benevolent guidance alongside the harbor’s physically reassuring presence.  In Gower’s reconstruction of the scene, however, Constance drifts not toward a harbor but into the midst of an array of ships.  He thus places Constance in a disconcerting environment.  The image of Constance sailing between the naval vehicles evokes the alarming feeling that a massive and powerful force is overshadowing her.  The unsettling sensation becomes intensified as her boat stops directly underneath the imposing flagship.  Furthermore, Gower sets the scene in open sea as opposed to locating it within sight of a harbor or a city.  His change of location communicates the idea that just as Constance is far away from a safe port, she is also at a distance from stability and security by being on the ocean—an unpredictable and unsteady environment in which anything can happen.  Finally, Gower complements the scene’s ominous nature by being somewhat ambiguous about God’s role in directing Constance.  Though Trevet clearly indicated the compassion and protection that a kind God showed to Constance as he guided her toward the harbor, Gower portrays God in a more neutral and indistinct manner by stating that Constance’s ship drifts among the naval fleet “as god wolde for the nones” (CA, II, 1130).  Here, Gower casts God in a far less reassuring light than in Trevet’s version, an alteration that in turn creates uncertainty about why God is directing Constance toward these ships.

Gower’s changes to Trevet’s story are not arbitrary or superficial.  They are a means to a specific end.  While the tone of Constance’s approach in Trevet’s tale was comparatively uncomplicated and mostly free of tension, Gower intensifies and darkens his story.  He implements revisions to infuse his tale with more dramatic tension while simultaneously preventing it from becoming essentially one-dimensional in its positive atmosphere.  Not surprisingly, this kind of dramatic movement is consistent with his other major changes.

In both tales, Constance makes contact with a band of sailors.  Trevet’s narrative did not reveal any fear or apprehension on the part of Constance as she encountered the sailors, nor did it allow for anxiety to build between the approaching sailors and Constance.  She exhibited no internal apprehension, distrust, or any other adverse reactions to their presence.  Even though Trevet’s Constance possessed “tresour” [“treasure”] (NLC, 442) of which the sailors took notice, the presence of these riches did not provoke a disturbance, quarrel, or conflict between Constance and the men.  Gower’s depiction of the scene, on the other hand, evokes a threatening aura as the sailors accost the seafaring Constance.  Obeying their lord’s orders, a small handful of sailors board Constance’s ship, compelling the fearful woman to “hireselven hide” (CA, II, 1142).  The inclusion of the sailors’ descent into Constance’s boat conjures foreboding undertones.  The sailors’ invasion of the boat creates the unsettling feeling that Constance’s space is being violated by a group of men.  Gower points to Constance’s anxiety of violation and the possible menace that these men pose by illustrating her fearful and defensive reactions.  Whereas Trevet’s Constance did not hide from or even balk at the idea of making contact with sailors, Gower represents Constance as an individual who feels compelled to take evasive actions to protect her well-being.  The fact that Gower shows the men bringing Constance out of her boat to the lord’s flagship builds upon these fears of violation.  In this moment when a group of strangers remove a reluctant and frightened Constance from her familiar surroundings in order to take her to their territory, Gower escalates the anxieties of the woman’s possible exploitation at the hands of unfamiliar men.

Because of the nature of the changes that he makes to the story of Constance, Gower is able to add depth to his tale and to his protagonist.  By having the sailors descend into Constance’s ship and take her away without communicating with her as they had in Trevet’s story, Gower not only imbues his tale with increased dramatic tension that prevents his narrative from succumbing to utter simplification, but he also provides dimension to the character of Constance.  While these men ultimately do not violate or otherwise harm Constance, Gower shows her reacting to them in a fearful manner that did not appear in Trevet’s tale.  Thus, Constance’s defensive hiding is indicative of her anxiety over her situation.  Although Constance showed no appreciable signs of trauma or upset in Trevet’s version, Constance’s frightened hiding in Gower’s tale suggests a growing aversion to the abuse and mistreatment that she suffers over the course of her journey.  In short, these changes give more definition to the narrative and to Constance’s apprehensive psychological state.

Another significant change to Trevet’s literary vision occurs as Gower takes Trevet’s character Arsenius and initially withholds expository or identifying information about him.  Trevet had immediately revealed a great deal about Arsenius as soon as Constance met him.  When Constance was brought before Arsenius, Trevet not only showed that Arsenius was an intelligent and commendable “chivaler” [“knight”] (NLC, 447) as well as a Roman senator with whom Constance was familiar, but he also revealed that he was a trustworthy figure because of the affectionate bond he shared with Constance’s father while serving as his advisor.  Trevet thus kept suspense from surfacing in his story by unambiguously revealing Arsenius to be a trusty and dependable individual.  Alternatively, Gower does not provide information about the Roman senator Arcenne when he emerges in the narrative.  In fact, he does not reveal the nature of Arcenne’s occupation or even his real name until well after Constance encounters him on the sea.  Gower withholds any revealing information in the interests of presenting the lord as an enigmatic figure who may not be wholly trustworthy.  Since Gower reveals nothing about Arcenne, the senator’s question about Constance’s faith and his offer to take her to Rome make him seem initially more suspect and questionable than in Trevet’s work.  An uneasy air of ambiguity surrounds Arcenne; his enigmatic introduction provides no clear indication of his disposition, traits, or intentions.

I have indicated above that Gower’s changes are not merely cosmetic in light of how they carry out a deeper function and serve as a means to a structural end.  His decision to withhold expository information about Arcenne is no exception.  Whereas Trevet’s immediate divulging of Arsenius’s positive qualities had resulted in the unambiguous delineation of the senator’s character, which in turn made this part of the story relatively uncomplicated, Gower initially makes him a suspicious figure.  Gower raises the dramatic tension and suspense of this scene by plunging the reader into a state of uncertainty about the senator’s true nature.  Ultimately, Gower’s conscious decision to envelop Arcenne in a shroud of mystery allows him to keep this scene from exhibiting the bland simplicity that marked Constance’s meeting with Arsenius in Trevet’s version, thereby making this scene more dramatic.

In one of Gower’s most important changes, he reshapes Constance’s behavior as she strives to hide the truth from Arcenne.  Trevet’s text depicted no clear signs of emotional or psychological distress—anxiety, nervousness, or overwhelming concern—on Constance’s part as she answered the senator’s questions about herself.  Through his portrayal of Constance as an individual who wielded wisdom as she answered Arsenius’s queries without divulging information about her “linage ou de l’emperour” [“lineage or the Emperor”] (NLC, 454), Trevet illustrated the composure and constancy that were the fundamental and dominant aspects of Constance’s character.  This show of mental durability was consistent with the way his Constance exhibited no lasting signs of trauma from the various trials, horrors, and injustices she experienced.  While Constance’s discovery of Hermegild’s dead body caused her to express a brief display of “grant affrai” [“great alarm”] (NLC, 231), for example, the effects of Constance’s alarm were fleeting and manifested themselves nowhere else in the text.

Gower, however, alters the way Constance avoids telling Arcenne any details about her life in order to reveal the psychological effects of her perilous journey.  Throughout the tale, he makes a variety of aspects of Constance’s character available.  For instance, as the story begins, Constance’s brave conviction and enthusiasm shine forth as she encounters “the greteste” (CA, II, 599) of the Barbarie merchants and “hath hem with wordes wise / Of Cristes feith so full enformed, / That thei therto ben all conformed” (CA, II, 606-08).  Also, an exile-bound Constance displays melancholy and a fear of the future as she uses a “milde stevene” (CA, II, 1056) and prays to God to “‘Tak of thi wofull womman rowthe / And of this child that I schal kepe’” (CA, II, 1060-61).  In these examples one can see how Gower is interested in changing Trevet’s story in order to flesh out Constance’s character.  In the scene in which Constance talks to Arcenne, Gower makes similar changes to her character’s depth as he alters Trevet’s representation of a constant and unflappable Constance.  As the scene unfolds, the language illustrates that Constance wants to impose forceful restrictions over herself, lest the slightest fragment of information concerning her past should slip out and expose her identity: 

Sche wolde him nothing elles sein
Bot of hir name, which sche feigneth;
Alle othre thinges sche restreigneth,
That a word more sche ne tolde.” (CA, II, 1166-70, emphasis added)

While Constance answered “plusours demaundes” [“several questions”] (NLC, 452-53) and maintained her composure in Trevet’s narrative, Gower forms a relation between Constance’s verbal restrictions and her anxieties about being discovered.  That is, when we consider Constance’s physically evasive and frightened tactic of hiding herself from the probing sailors’ sight and observe a parallel in her verbally evasive manner of “hiding” her words from Arcenne’s ears and refusing to say “a word more,” Constance’s highly defensive way of speaking then appears to derive from her fear of being discovered.  Such a fear of being exposed through her speech is consistent with her anxiety of being exposed on her boat.  Consequently, that Gower makes Constance less talkative and more protective of her speech transforms Constance from a stable and calm individual to an anxious and troubled one.

What purpose does it serve for Gower to institute such changes in the main character of this story?  Constance’s internal conflict corresponds to the other modifications that I have described above, in that Gower’s changes infuse the tale with more dramatic depth and dimension.  Constance’s predominantly unflappable nature in Trevet’s story did not allow for much dramatic tension.  Gower designs a fleshed-out and fully dimensional portrait of Constance with the intention of adding depth to both the story and to his main character.  As a result, his story contains an insightful psychological portrait of a woman who has lived through a number of fear-provoking circumstances, which in turn makes his story and protagonist more profound.

Aside from the major revisions I have described, the minor changes that Gower makes in depicting Constance’s return are worth brief mention.  Some of these alterations relate to Trevet’s depiction of Helen, Arsenius’s wife.  Trevet revealed Helen to be a remarkable woman, an individual of complete “seinteté et bounté” [“holiness and goodness”] (NLC, 482).  Trevet also designed his narrative so that Arsenius and Helen declared Maurice to be their heir.  Gower does away with these touches by merely describing Heleine as “a good wif” (CA, II, 1215) and by eliminating Trevet’s detail about Arsenius and Helen selecting Maurice as their heir.  Considering how Gower’s other changes push for a movement towards intensified dramatic tension and depth, it appears that he makes these two revisions so as to prevent Trevet’s details from compromising the dramatic tension that he wishes to achieve.  The superlative nature of Helen’s holiness and the undeveloped bestowing of the title of heir upon Maurice may strike Gower as overly sentimental and ideal simplifications that work against his deeper and more nuanced characterizations and plot structures. 

These same motives compel Gower to revise Trevet’s description of the aftermath of the Saracen slaughter.  In Trevet’s version, Arsenius informed Constance that while the emperor’s men killed each of the “unze mil” [“eleven thousand”] (NLC, 468) Saracen murderers who had slain Constance’s Christian companions, none of the emperor’s Christian warriors died or received injuries.  The outlandish scenario of one army utterly wiping out another army and emerging completely unscathed counteracts Gower’s push for dramatic depth due to its overwhelmingly idealistic outcome.  Accordingly, in his depiction of Arcenne’s army triumphing over the bloodthirsty Barbarie men, Gower downplays the details and indicates that none of the Barbarie fiends “from the swerd alyve passed” (CA, II, 1186).  Once these minor alterations are in place, Gower can construct a stronger and more cohesive work that adequately accommodates his major changes.  In the end, by creating an ominous atmosphere as Constance advances towards Arcenne’s fleet, constructing the discovery of Constance in a more suspenseful manner, temporarily withholding expository information about Arcenne, and showing the extent to which Constance will go to restrain her speech, Gower generates a higher level of dramatic tension and instills substantial depth and dimension not only in his tale, but in the remarkable protagonist as well.

Originally Posted: April 4, 2006