"Fair, sweet friend, all my kinsfolk and acquaintance have cast me
utterly behind them, neither care they for me any more, notwithstanding
that they thrive by reason of my gifts and toil. I can offer no kinsman
as surety, nor have I a friend in the world. But though I can give
neither pledge nor surety, strive how I may, yet I swear to you now on
my faith and conscience, that, without fail, I will repay you your loan
and your substance on the very day that the debt becomes due."
"If things are thus, I can lend you nothing," answered the Jew; "for
grievously I doubt that you may not carry out your bargain."
"Fair, sweet friend," he made reply, "since then I neither have, nor
think to have, a pledge to offer, take now in pledge, I pray you, my
Maker, in whom is all my faith, this Jesus Christ, the King of Heaven,
the King of kings, the God of gods. If you have not your money returned
on the very day that you shall name, I swear to you by God, fair
brother Jew, and by His Mother, so tender and so dear, that I will
become your villein and your serf, in such wise and fashion as any
other slave of yours; so that with a ring about my neck you may sell me
in the market-place, just as any brute beast."
Now in his heart the Jew greatly desired and longed to make this
Christian his bondsman. Therefore, laughing, he replied--
"I believe but little that Jesus Christ, the son of Mary, whom our
forefathers crucified on a cross of wood, was truly God. But inasmuch
as He was doubtless a holy man, and a prophet of mighty name, if you
will put Him in pledge in such manner that you will serve me all your
life should you fail me in this our bargain, why, I will take your
pledge without demur."
"Fairly have you spoken," said he, "by my soul. Let us go straightway
to the church of Our Lady, the most glorious Mother of God."
A great company of Christians and of Jews went with them to the church,
and many a clerk and layman was witness to their device and covenant.
Without any delay, the wretched merchant kneeled him down before the
Statue, whilst the hot tears rushed to his eyes, and over-ran and
wetted all his face, because of the poverty which drove him to this
deed. The unhappy man knew not what to do in his plight, but he cast
his burden upon the Lord, and, weeping, prayed God's precious Mother
that she would deign to set wretchedness and bondage far from him. But
very fearful was he, and sore adread in his heart.
When he had prayed his prayer to Our Lady, he sprang lightly to his
feet, and said--
"Friend Jew, by my soul see here my Surety. In giving you this Child
and this Image, I give you Jesus Christ, Himself, as pledge. He created
me, and He fashioned me. 'Tis He Who is my bond for your moneys. A
richer pledge you may not think to have, so help me God, now and for
evermore."
He placed the hand of the Child in that of the Jew, and forthwith
delivered the pledge and plighted faith. Then, yet upon his knees, most
pitifully, with eyes all wet, he cried aloud in the hearing of
Christian and of Jew--
"Fair Lord God, most merciful, most mighty and most sure, at the end of
this business, I beseech Thee with clasped hands, fair, kindest Father,
that by the pleadings of Thy sweet Mother, if it should happen that on
the appointed day for any cause I may not give again the wealth I owe
the Jew, then of Thy courtesy pay Thou my debt, and without an hour's
delay redeem Thy pledge and faith. For if but one single day I fail to
keep faith, then his serf must I be all the days of my life, save only
that I break my oath sworn on this Image."
He rose lightly to his feet, though with a tearful face, and the Jew
straightway counted out to him a great sum of money, to deal with in
the future as he had dealt with his own. But he had lost the desire to
play, for he remembered too plainly that of such mirth comes
bitterness. The scalded man hates boiling water, and well he knew, and
clearly he perceived, that he who is in rags goes shivering in the
wind.
The honest merchant--whom God kept in charge--went forth with a light
heart, that leaped and fluttered in his breast, because of the wealth
he had in seisin. He bargained for a bark that lay in harbour, and
since he had much skill in such business, he stored the ship with
divers kinds of merchandise. Then putting his trust in God, and
commending body and goods to His keeping, he hoisted sail, and set
forth upon the water. He voyaged to divers lands, and trafficked with
the merchants thereof to such purpose, that before the year had gone by
he was no more in dread of beggary. God increased his store, so that he
prospered in every market. But the gains and riches of the merchant in
nowise made him grudging of his substance. Freely was given to him,
freely he gave to others, for the love of God Who for every man ripens
His harvest.
In a short while the merchant became very rich. One market opened
another market, and money made more money. So greatly did his substance
multiply that at the end, the story tells us, he might not keep the
count of his wealth. So to set field by field, and house by house, he
travelled in many strange lands. One day darkened, and the next day
dawned, but he never gave thought to that certain day when he must
return to the Jew the loan of which he had made so fruitful a use. He
called it not to mind until there was but one single day between him
and the appointed time, and as it chanced he bethought him thereof
when he was at sea. He well-nigh swooned when the day came to his
heart and memory.
"Ah, gentle Lady of the King of Glory! sweet Maid and debonair!" cried
he; "unhappy wretch, what can I do?"
So sore was his grief that with clenched hands he beat upon his breast,
and presently with locked teeth fell fainting to the deck, where he lay
senseless for a great space. The sailors ran to his succour, and,
pressing about him, cried out and lamented his evil case, for certainly
they deemed that he was dead. Passing heavy were they at this sad
mischance, for not one word could they draw from his lips, nor for all
their pains might they find in him either pulse or breath. When he was
returned a little from his swoon, he addressed himself to prayer,
weeping and sighing for a great while, because for grief he found no
words to say.
"Alas!" cried he, "alas, my luckless lot! What a besotted merchant have
I been! How foully has misfortune stolen upon me! How has the Adversary
beguiled me, and snared my thoughts, that I might not better mark the
appointed day! Surely on the tables of my heart should it have been
written that for pledge I gave Jesus Christ, and His Mother, sweet and
dear. Alas! very right is it that I should go heavy, and that my heart
should be sick and sad, since never by day nor by night have I taken
thought how to return that mighty debt which so affrights me now.
Affrighted, alas! much cause have I to fear. Were a bird now to quit
the ship, yet should he not wing to Byzantium in thirty days--no, nor
in forty. Foul fall the day, for I am quite undone. Alas! for the shame
I have brought upon my kin. Very great riches are very little worth,
since thus am I snared and taken."
In this manner the good merchant made his complaint, and with many
sighs bewailed his wretched plight. But when he had eased his heart
with words, the Holy Spirit wrought upon him, so that his courage came
to him again, and he said--
"What is here for tears? Rather should I take comfort in that He, Who
hath power over all, is holden as my pledge. Let me place the matter in
His mighty hand, nor concern myself overmuch with what is His business
more than mine. I owe the money, but He will pay my debt; and thus by
His balm shall I be healed. On the morrow must I repay the money that I
owe, but there is yet a full night before the money need be counted to
the Jew. I will not concern myself greatly with this matter, but
commend myself humbly to His will. No other thing is there to do, for
none can deliver me from my trouble, save Him alone. He is my Surety,
and very surely will He discharge me from this debt, for without Him
there is no redemption."
Then straightway the merchant took a strong, clamped coffer, and sealed
within it the debt which he must now restore the Jew. Without waiting
for the morrow, he cast it into the sea with his own hand, and with
tears commended it to that great Lord and God Who holds every man in
His good keeping, and to Whom earth and sea are ministers and servants
alike. So He Who is of such high and puissant majesty, that naught He
wills to do is burdensome or heavy to Him, was pleased to steer that
coffer with its precious load of besants through the waters, so that it
made more than a thousand leagues in that one night. Thus with the dawn
it drew right to Byzantium, and on the appointed day the casket and the
treasure came to the shore.
Now by the will of God it chanced that the rich Jew, who lent the
Christian of his moneys, lived in a fair dwelling near by the sea. A
certain servant of his rose early from his bed to walk on the shore in
the cool summer dawn, and spied the casket, which had but just drawn to
land. So, without taking off his raiment, he sprang into the sea that
he might lay hold upon it; but he was not able, for the coffer tossed
grievously whenever he would make it his own. Very covetous was the
varlet of this coffer, yet might he never set his hand upon it. For the
casket moved warily, as though it would say, "Go your road, since in
nowise am I yours."
So presently the servant sought his lord, and returned with him to the
shore. And forthwith the coffer drew to the very feet of the Jew, and
seemed to him to say--
"Fair Sir Jew, receive your own. By me God redeems the merchant from
his debt, and henceforth he is free, quite free of you."
Then the Jew entered swiftly within his door, bearing the casket with
him, and when he had counted over its great riches, he hid the treasure
in a privy place at the foot of his bed, so that none might know of the
matter. Moreover, he found within a certain letter news that, very
soon, this merchant, who so far had voyaged in so many lands, would
seek Byzantium in ships laden with tissues and broideries and all
manner of stuffs and merchandise. So the friends and acquaintance of
the merchant rejoiced greatly at his prosperity, and the whole city
welcomed him with mirth and festival. All men made much of his
home-coming, and clerk and layman joined alike in the feast.
When the Jew heard the noise of the joyous greeting vouchsafed to the
citizen, he rose up quickly, and sought him out without delay. They
spoke at great length together, and many words passed between the
twain. At the last the Jew made mention of his money, as if he sought
to know when payment should be made. For presently in his merry talk,
yet laughing, he took the Christian by the hand, and wagging his head
from side to side, said--
"Oh, faithful Christian! oh, faithful Christian!"
Thereat the burgess began to smile, and made reply that he would learn
the meaning of those words.
"By the Law, it means that I have lent you monies in heaped-up measure
from my wealth, to be repaid me on a day now gone. Since you have
failed in bond and faith, now holds the bargain, that should you break
your covenant, though but for one single day, then all the years of
your life must you labour as my serf. If now you throw me back your
bond, then I must reckon your Holy Faith and your plighted word as
worth just two grains of dust upon a balance."