The Path of the King
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第17章 THE WIFE OF FLANDERS(3)

"Peace, Peterkin," she said."You mind me of the babbling of the merchant-folk, when I spurred Willebald into new roads.He had done as his father before him, and bought wool and salted fish from the English, paying with the stuffs of our Flemish looms.A good trade of small and sure profits, but I sought bigger quarries.For, mark you, there was much in England that had a value in this country of ours which no Englishman guessed.""Of what nature?" the monk asked with curiosity in his voice.

"Roman things.Once in that land of bogs and forests there were bustling Roman towns and rich Roman houses, which disappeared as every tide brought in new robbers from the sea.Yes, but not all.Much of the preciousness was hidden and the place of its hiding forgotten.Bit by bit the churls found the treasure-trove, but they did not tell their lords.They melted down jewels and sold them piecemeal to Jews for Jews' prices, and what they did not recognise as precious they wantonly destroyed.I have seen the marble heads of heathen gods broken with the hammer to make mortar of, and great cups of onyx and alabaster used as water troughs for a thrall's mongrels..

..Knowing the land, I sent pedlars north and west to collect such stuff, and what I bought for pence I sold for much gold in the Germanies and throughout the French cities.Thus Willebald amassed wealth, till it was no longer worth his while to travel the seas.We lived snug in Flanders, and our servants throughout the broad earth were busy getting us gear."The Cluniac was all interest.The making of money lay very near the heart of his Order."I have heard wondrous tales of your enterprise," he told her."I would fain know the truth.""Packman's tricks," she laughed."Nevertheless it is a good story.For Iturned my eyes to the East, whence come those things that make the pride of life.The merchants of Venice were princes, and it was in my head to make those of Bruges no worse.What did it profit that the wind turned daily the sails of our three hundred mills if we limited ourselves to common burgher wares and the narrow northern markets? We sent emissaries up the Rhine and beyond the Alps to the Venice princes, and brought hither the spices and confections of Egypt and the fruits and wines of Greece, and the woven stuffs of Asia till the marts of Flanders had the savour of Araby.

Presently in our booths could be seen silks of Italy, and choice metals from Innsbruck, and furs from Muscovy, and strange birds and beasts from Prester John's country, and at our fairs such a concourse of outlandish traders as put Venice to shame.'Twas a long fight and a bitter for Willebald and me, since, mark you, we had to make a new road over icy mountains, with a horde of freebooters hanging on the skirts of our merchant trains and every little burg on the way jealous to hamper us.Yet if the heart be resolute, barriers will fall.Many times we were on the edge of beggary, and grievous were our losses, but in the end we triumphed.

There came a day when we had so many bands of the Free Companions in our pay that the progress of our merchandise was like that of a great army, and from rivals we made the roadside burgs our allies, sharing modestly in our ventures.Also there were other ways.A pilgrim travels unsuspect, for who dare rob a holy man? and he is free from burgal dues; but if the goods be small and very precious, pilgrims may carry them."The monk, as in duty bound, shook a disapproving head.

"Sin, doubtless," said the woman, "but I have made ample atonement.Did Inot buy with a bushel of gold a leg of the blessed St.George for the New Kirk, and give to St.Martin's a diamond as big as a thumb nail and so bright that on a dark day it is a candle to the shrine? Did not I give to our Lady at Aix a crown of ostrich feathers the marrow of which is not in Christendom?""A mother in Israel, in truth," murmured the cleric.

"Yea, in Israel," said the old wife with a chuckle."Israel was the kernel of our perplexities.The good Flemings saw no farther than their noses, and laughed at Willebald when he began his ventures.When success came, it was easy to win them over, and by admitting them to a share in our profits get them to fling their caps in the air and huzza for their benefactors.But the Jews were a tougher stock.Mark you, father, when God blinded their eyes to the coming of the Lord Christ, He opened them very wide to all lower matters.Their imagination is quick to kindle, and they are as bold in merchantcraft as Charlemagne in war.They saw what I was after before Ihad been a month at it, and were quick to profit by my foresight.There are but two ways to deal with Israelites--root them from the face of the earth or make them partners with you.Willebald would have fought them; I, more wise, bought them at a price.For two score years they have wrought faithfully for me.You say well, a mother in Israel!""I could wish that a Christian lady had no dealings with the accursed race," said the Cluniac.

"You could wish folly," was the tart answer."I am not as your burgher folk, and on my own affairs I take no man's guiding, be he monk or merchant.Willebald is long dead; may he sleep in peace, He was no mate for me, but for what he gave me I repaid him in the coin he loved best.He was a proud man when he walked through the Friday Market with every cap doffed.

He was ever the burgher, like the child I bore him.""I had thought the marriage more fruitful.They spoke of two children, a daughter and a son."The woman turned round in her bed so that she faced him.The monkey whimpered and she cuffed its ears.Her face was sharp and exultant, and for a sick person her eyes were oddly bright.