“Ah! that was wrong,” said the Jew, “that was the part of a fool. No Christians here could buy so many horses and armour—no Jew except myself would give him half the values. But thou hast a hundred zecchins with thee in that bag,” said Isaac, prying under Gurth’s cloak; “it is a heavy one.”

“I have heads for crossbow bolts in it,” said Gurth readily.

“Well, then,” said Isaac, panting and hesitating between habitual love of gain and a new-born desire to be liberal in the present instance, “if I should say that I would take eighty zecchins for the good steed and the rich armour, which leaves me not a guilder’s profit, have you money to pay me?”

“Barely,” said Gurth, though the sum demanded was more reasonable than he expected, “and it will leave my master nigh penniless. Nevertheless, if such be your least offer, I must be content.”

“Fill thyself another goblet of wine,” said the Jew. “Ah! eighty zecchins is too little. It leaveth no profits for the usages of the moneys; and, besides, the good horse may have suffered wrong in this day’s encounter. Oh, it was a hard and a dangerous meeting: man and steed rushing on each other like wild bulls of Bashan! The horse cannot but have had wrong.”

“And I say,” replied Gurth, “he is sound, wind and limb; and you may see him now in your stable. And I say, over and above, that seventy zecchins is enough for the armour, and I hope a Christian’s word is as good as a Jew’s. If you will not take seventy, I will carry this bag” (and he shook it till the contents jingled) “back to my master.”

“Nay, nay!” said Isaac; “lay down the talents—the shekels—the eighty zecchins, and thou shalt see I will consider thee liberally.”

Gurth at length complied; and telling out eighty zecchins upon the table, the Jew delivered out to him an acquittance for the horse and suit of armour. The Jew’s hand trembled for joy as he wrapped up the first seventy pieces of gold. The last ten he told over with much deliberation, pausing, and saying something as he took each piece from the table, and dropped it into his purse. It seemed as if his avarice were struggling with his better nature, and compelling him to pouch zecchin after zecchin, while his generosity urged him to restore some part at least to his benefactor, or as a donation to his agent. His whole speech ran nearly thus:—

“Seventy-one—seventy-two; thy master is a good youth —seventy-three, an excellent youth—seventy- four—that piece hath been clipped within the ring—seventy-five—and that looketh light of weight—seventy- six—when thy master wants money, let him come to Isaac of York—seventy-seven—that is, with reasonable security.” Here he made a considerable pause, and Gurth had good hope that the last three pieces might escape the fate of their comrades; but the enumeration proceeded. “Seventy-eight—thou art a good fellow—seventy-nine—and deserveth something for thyself—”

Here the Jew paused again, and looked at the last zecchin, intending, doubtless, to bestow it upon Gurth. He weighed it upon the tip of his finger, and made it ring by dropping it upon the table. Had it rung too flat, or had it felt a hair’s breadth too light, generosity had carried the day; but, unhappily for Gurth, the chime was full and true, the zecchin plump, newly coined, and a grain above weight. Isaac could not find it in his heart to part with it, so dropped it into his purse as if in absence of mind, with the words, “Eighty completes the tale, and I trust thy master will reward thee handsomely. Surely,” he added, looking earnestly at the bag, “thou hast more coins in that pouch?”

Gurth grinned, which was his nearest approach to a laugh, as he replied, “About the same quantity which thou hast just told over so carefully.” He then folded the quittance, and put it under his cap, adding— “Peril of thy beard, Jew, see that this be full and ample!” He filled himself, unbidden, a third goblet of wine, and left the apartment without ceremony.