“It is black dark; give us candles of tallow or of wax.”
The baes replies:
“The tallow candles are hanging there.”
A candle being lit, said one of the Beggars, in the hearthplace:
“It is cold; let us kindle a fire. Here are proper faggots.”
And he pointed out upon a shelf flower pots in which withered and dried plants might be seen.
He took one by the stalk and shaking it with the pot, the pot fell, scattering over the ground ducats, florins, and reals.
“There is the treasure,” said he, pointing to the other flower pots.
In very deed, having emptied them, they found ten thousand florins.
Seeing which, the baes cried out and wept.