Scene III At the Usurer’s
Enter the Usurer, Thrasybulus, and Alcon.68
Usurer. Come on, I am every day troubled with these needy companions: what news with you? what wind brings you hither?
Thras. Sir, I hope, how far soever you make it off, you remember, too well for me, that this is the day wherein I should pay you money that I took up of you alate in a commodity.69
Alc. And, sir, sir-reverence of your manhood and gentry, I have brought home such money as you lent me.
Usurer. You, young gentleman, is my money ready?
Thras. Truly, sir, this time was so short, the commodity so bad, and the promise of friends so broken, that I could not provide it against the day; wherefore I am come to entreat you to stand my friend, and to favour me with a longer time, and I will make you sufficient consideration.
Usurer. Is the wind in that door? If thou hast thy money, so it is: I will not defer a day, an hour, a minute, but take the forfeit of the bond.
Thras. I pray you, sir, consider that my loss was great by the commodity I took up: you know, sir, I borrowed of you forty pounds, whereof I had ten pounds in money, and thirty pounds in lute-strings, which when I came to sell again, I could get but five pounds for them, so had I, sir, but fifteen pounds for my forty. In consideration of this ill bargain, I pray you, sir, give me a month longer.
Usurer. I answered thee afore, not a minute; what have I to do how thy bargain proved? I have thy hand set to my book that thou receivedst forty pounds of me in money.
Thras. Ay, sir, it was your device that, to colour the statute, but your conscience knows what I had.
Alc. Friend, thou speakest Hebrew to him when thou talkest to him of conscience; for he hath as much conscience about the forfeit of an obligation, as my blind mare, God bless her, hath over a manger of oats.
Thras. Then there is no favour, sir?
Usurer. Come to-morrow to me, and see how I will use thee.
Thras. No, covetous caterpillar, know that I have made extreme shift rather than I would fall into the hands of such a ravening panther; and therefore here is thy money, and deliver me the recognisance of my lands.
Usurer [aside]. What a spite is this!—hath sped of his crowns! If he had missed but one half hour, what a goodly farm had I gotten for forty pounds! Well, ’tis my cursed fortune. O, have I no shift to make him forfeit his recognisance?
Thras. Come, sir, will you despatch and tell your money? [It strikes four o’clock.
Usurer [aside]. Stay, what is this o’clock? four;—let me see—“to be paid between the hours of three and four in the afternoon”: this goes right for me.—You, sir, hear you not the clock, and have you not a counterpane70 of your obligation? The hour is past, it was to be paid between three and four; and now the clock hath strucken four: I will receive none, I’ll stand to the forfeit of the recognisance.
Thras. Why, sir, I hope you do but jest; why, ’tis but four, and will you for a minute take forfeit of my bond? If it were so, sir, I was here before four.
Usurer. Why didst thou not tender thy money then? if I offer thee injury, take the law of me, complain to the judge: I will receive no money.
Alc. Well, sir, I hope you will stand my good master for my cow. I borrowed thirty shillings on her, and for that I have paid you eighteen-pence a week, and for her meat you have had her milk, and I tell you, sir, she gives a pretty sup: now, sir, here is your money.
Usurer. Hang, beggarly knave! comest to me for a cow? did I not bind her bought and sold for a penny, and was not thy day to have paid yesterday? Thou gettest no cow at my hand.
Alc. No cow, sir! alas, that word “no cow” goes as cold to my heart as a draught of small drink in a frosty morning! “No cow,” sir! Why, alas, alas, Master Usurer, what shall become of me, my wife, and my poor child?
Usurer. Thou gettest no cow of me, knave! I cannot stand prating with you; I must be gone.
Ale. Nay, but hear you, Master Usurer: “no cow!” Why, sir, here’s your thirty shillings: I have paid you eighteen-pence a week, and therefore there is reason I should have my cow.
Usurer. What pratest thou? have I not answered thee, thy day is broken?
Alc. Why, sir, alas, my cow is a commonwealth to me! for first, sir, she allows me, my wife, and son, for to banquet ourselves withal, butter, cheese, whey, curds, cream, sod-milk, raw-milk, sour-milk, sweet-milk, and butter-milk: besides, sir, she saved me every year a penny in almanacs, for she was as good to me as a prognostication; if she had but set up her tail, and have gallop’d about the mead, my little boy was able to say, “O, father, there will be a storm”; her very tail was a calendar to me: and now to lose my cow! alas, Master Usurer, take pity upon me!
Usurer. I have other matters to talk on; farewell, fellows.
Thras. Why, but, thou covetous churl, wilt thou not receive thy money, and deliver me my recognisance?
Usurer. I’ll deliver thee none; if I have wronged thee, seek thy mends at the law. [Exit.
Thras. And so I will, insatiable peasant.
Alc. And, sir, rather than I will put up this word “no cow,” I will lay my wife’s best gown to pawn. I tell you, sir, when the slave uttered this word “no cow,” it struck to my heart, for my wife shall never have one so fit for her turn again; for, indeed, sir, she is a woman that hath her twiddling-strings broke.
Thras. What meanest thou by that, fellow?
Alc. Marry, sir, sir-reverence of your manhood, she breaks wind behind; and indeed, sir, when she sat milking of her cow and let a fart, my other cows would start at the noise, and kick down the milk and away; but this cow, sir, the gentlest cow! my wife might blow whilst71 she burst: and having such good conditions, shall the Usurer come upon me with “no cow”? Nay, sir, before I pocket up this word “no cow,” my wife’s gown goes to the lawyer: why, alas, sir, ’tis as ill a word to me as “no crown” to a king!
Thras. Well, fellow, go with me, and I’ll help thee to a lawyer.
Alc. Marry, and I will, sir. No cow! well, the world goes hard. [Exeunt.
Oseas. Where hateful usury
Is counted husbandry;
Where merciless men rob the poor,
And the needy are thrust out of door;
Where gain is held for conscience,
And men’s pleasure is all on pence;
Where young gentlemen forfeit their lands,
Through riot, into the usurer’s hands;
Where poverty is despis’d, and pity banish’d,
And mercy indeed utterly vanish’d:
Where men esteem more of money than of God;
Let that land look to feel his wrathful rod:
For there is no sin more odious in his sight
Than where usury defrauds the poor of his right.
London, take heed, these sins abound in thee;
The poor complain, the widows wrongèd be;
The gentlemen by subtlety are spoil’d;
The ploughmen lose the crop for which they toil’d:
Sin reigns in thee, O London, every hour:
Repent, and tempt not thus the heavenly power.