Just then they came to a meadow where there was a spring, and by the side of it an old man in rags carrying upon his shoulder the sack of the seekers for bread.[[140]] When he saw the two cavaliers he called to them in a supplicating voice. Tonyk went up to him.
“What would you, father?” he asked, lifting his hand to his hat out of respect for the beggar’s age.
“Alas! dear sir,” replied he, “you see how white my hair is and how wrinkled my cheeks. I am grown so weak from age that my legs can no longer carry me; so I must needs die in this spot, unless one of you will sell me his horse.”
“Sell thee one of our horses, bread-seeker!” cried Mylio with a scornful air. “And wherewith wilt thou pay us?”
“You see this hollow acorn?” said the beggar. “It holds a spider which can spin webs stronger than steel. Let me have one of your horses, and I will give you the spider and the acorn for it.”
The elder of the two lads burst out laughing.
“Do you hear, Tonyk?” he cried, turning to his brother. “By my baptism! there must be two calves’ feet in this man’s sabots.”[[141]]
But the younger replied gently: “The poor man can offer only what he has.” Then, getting off his horse and going up to the old man, “I give you my horse, my good man,” said he, “not because of the price you put on it, but in remembrance of Him who has said that the seekers for bread were his elect. Take it as your own, and thank God, who has made use of me to offer it you.”
The old man murmured a thousand blessings, got upon the horse with the lad’s help, and was soon out of sight across the meadow.
But Mylio could not forgive his brother this last almsgiving, and it led to an outbreak.