ANOTHER PEASANT. I will not trust my mother after this.

FIRST MERCHANT. There is this crack in you--two hundred crowns.

A PEASANT. That's plenty for a rogue.

ANOTHER PEASANT. I'd give him nothing.

SHEMUS. You'll get no more--so take what's offered you.

(A general murmur, during which the MIDDLE-AGED-MAN takes money,
and slips into background, where he sinks on to a seat.)

FIRST MERCHANT. Has no one got a better soul than that?
If only for the credit of your parishes, Traffic with us.

A WOMAN. What will you give for mine?

FIRST MERCHANT (reading in book)
"Soft, handsome, and still young "--not much, I think."
It's certain that the man she's married to
Knows nothing of what's hidden in the jar
Between the hour-glass and the pepper-pot."

THE WOMAN. The scandalous book.

FIRST MERCHANT. "Nor how when he's away
At the horse fair the hand that wrote what's hid
Will tap three times upon the window-pane."