The monk was very courteous in his reply. ‘I have so much pity for you, gentle lady, that I here plight my word to you. I swear that, when your husband has gone to Bruges, I will solve your problem. I will bring you the hundred francs.’ Saying that he fondled her thighs and buttocks, embraced her, and kissed her a hundred times. ‘Go upon your way,’ he said, ‘quietly and discreetly. Let us dine soon. I see from this sundial that it is past nine o’clock in the morning. So go now. Be as faithful to me as I am true to you.’
‘Of course. God forbid that I should behave in any other way.’
So she sets off as merry as a magpie, and instructs the cooks to prepare a good meal for the master and his guest. Then she went off to see her husband, and knocked boldly on the door of the counting house.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s me. Don’t you think you ought to eat something, Peter? How much time are you going to spend with all your sums and calculations? Let the devil take all these account books! Surely you have enough of God’s blessings without having to count them all? Come out. Forget your bags of money for a while. Are you not ashamed that dear John has not had a meal all day? Let us go to mass. And then eat.’
‘My wife,’ the merchant replied, ‘you know nothing about men’s business. It is too complicated for you to understand, I suppose. But let me explain this to you. Take a group of twelve merchants. Only two of them will succeed and prosper. Only two will make a good profit in the course of their careers. We put on a brave face, of course, and make ourselves busy in the world. But we have to keep our affairs secret – until we are dead. The only alternative is to go on a pilgrimage. Or just disappear. That is the reason I pore over my books. I have to know how to master the tricks of the world. I am always in dread of failure, bankruptcy, and all the other hazards of business life.
‘I am going to Bruges tomorrow, as you know, but I will be back as soon as I can. While I am away I want you to be modest and courteous with everyone. Look after our property as carefully as you can. Keep the house neat and tidy. You have enough provisions, I am sure of that, so don’t overspend. You don’t lack meat or wine. You have all the clothes you need. But I’m feeling generous. Here is some silver for your purse.’ And with that he closed the door of the counting house and went down with his wife for luncheon. He had done enough work for the day. So they attended a quick mass and, as fast as they could, they sat down to eat. The tables were laid, the dishes come and gone in an instant. No one ate more than the monk.
Then, after the meal was over, John took the merchant to one side and spoke to him very seriously. ‘Dear cousin Peter,’ he said, ‘I know that you are about to take horse and travel to Bruges. God be with you and speed you on your journey. Ride carefully. And be careful of what you eat. Your health may be at risk in this hot weather. Be temperate in all things. What am I saying? There is no need for elaborate courtesies between cousins like ourselves. Farewell. God protect you! That’s all I need to say. If there is anything I can do for you, by day or night, just let me know. I am always here to help you.’ He was much affected, and put the sleeve of his habit to his eyes. ‘Oh. There is one other thing. I have a favour to ask of you before you go. Can you lend me one hundred francs, just for a week or two? I have to purchase some cattle for the monastery. Our stock is getting low. I will repay you promptly. You have my word as a monk on it. But can we keep the matter to ourselves? I have to buy the cattle today, you see, and I don’t want to be forestalled. Now farewell again, dear cousin Peter. Thank you for your kindness. And for the hundred francs.’
‘That is nothing,’ the merchant replied. ‘Consider it done. My gold is at your disposal, dear cousin John. In fact everything I have is yours. Take your pick. God forbid that I should deny you anything. I must tell you one thing, however. For us merchants money is the staff of life. We can get credit while our reputation is good. But to be without money – well, that is disastrous. Pay me back any time you like. There is no hurry. I want to help you in any way I can.’
So the merchant takes one hundred francs out of one of his chests, and gives the money secretly to the monk. The only people who knew of the loan were the lender and the borrower. Then they relaxed and enjoyed themselves until it was time for John to return to the monastery.
On the following morning Peter mounted his horse and, in the company of his apprentice, made his way to Bruges. He arrived safely, and at once got down to business. He dealt in cash and credit; he bought and sold. He did not dice. He did not drink or dance. He paid attention only to profit and to loss. He behaved exactly as a merchant should. So I will leave him in the market place.
On the Sunday following the merchant’s departure, dear cousin John presented himself at Saint-Denis. He was freshly shaven, smelling of soap; even his tonsure had been clipped. Everyone in the house saw him, and welcomed him. Even the serving-boys greeted him. But who was most pleased to see him? You have guessed. I will come straight to the point. The wife had agreed that, in exchange for the hundred francs, she would spend the night with him. She promised that she would give him value for money; and so she did, throughout the night. The monk was exhausted, but he was happy. He left at dawn, wishing a merry good day to the entire household. No one had the least suspicion of him. So he rode off to the monastery, as free from rumour as any innocent. There we will lose sight of him for the moment.
The merchant, having successfully completed his business at the fair in Bruges, came back home to Saint-Denis. He was greeted fondly by his wife, and together they celebrated his return. He told her that the price of merchandise had been so high that he had been forced to take out a loan of two thousand gold sovereigns; now he was obliged to travel to Paris in order to raise the money. He had some cash, of course, but he needed to raise the rest from his friends.
When he arrived in Paris, his first thought was of his dear cousin. So in the expectation of good wine and good conversation he called upon John in his monastery. He had no intention of asking him for money. He just wanted to catch up on all the gossip, and make sure that his friend was still in rude health. John welcomed him very warmly, and asked about his affairs. Peter replied that he had done well enough, thanks be to God, and had made a profit. ‘There is just one problem,’ he said. ‘I have to raise two thousand sovereigns by next week. Once I have repaid that, I will be laughing.’
‘I am so pleased that you have come back to us in good health,’ the monk replied. ‘If I were a rich man, I would gladly give you two thousand sovereigns. I haven’t forgotten your kindness to me the other day, when you lent me one hundred francs. But I have repaid you. Two days ago I brought back the money and gave it to your wife. I put it down on your counter. She knows all about it. I gave her a double entry.’ He coughed. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go. Our abbot is about to leave town, and I have to ride with him. Give your wife my fondest regards, won’t you? What a darling! Farewell, dear cousin, until we meet again.’
This merchant was as careful as he was astute. He raised the money and handed the two thousand sovereigns to some Lombard bankers, who gave him a bond in recognition of full payment. Then he rode back as cheerful as a chaffinch. He knew that he had made a profit of a thousand francs on the deal. No wonder he sang and whistled as he returned home.
His wife met him at the gate, as was her custom, and all that night they celebrated their good fortune with some amorous turns in bed. The merchant was out of debt. The merchant was rich. At break of day he embraced her, and began kissing her again. At the same time he fucked her hard.