Unravelling Constance

She came from the sea, mazed, amazed —masen —confused, bewildered, senseless. Deceived, deranged, crazed. They stopped and asked her who she was. When they stopped and asked her who she was, she said she did not know. She said she was so mazed in the sea, that she forgot her mind. Her mind —mynde — seat of memory, faculty of memory, individual remembrance. Reason, understanding. Will, desire, purpose. She forgot her mind, when she lost herself. Constance forgets Constance. Constance is lost. Distress teaches us to be inventive, says the nightingale, but blank Constance does not invent. Once, she was Constance. Syrian chapmen found her in Rome, among the other things, specially. The chapmen took their cloths of gold, their satins rich of hew, their chaffare so thrifty and new, and returned with tales of Constance. Their chaffare — anything of virtue, something desirable. An exchange, a bargain, a deal. So thrifty — well-made, seemly, suitable. Golden, rich of hew, so thrifty and so new, they returned with tales of Constance. The chapmen went to market. Take the cloth and sell the cloth, take the goods and sell the goods. The smooth trade in luxury prevails over gods and geography. Facilitate allegiance in the market. Chapmen exchange satin for Dame Constance.