FIRST MERCHANT (reading in a book)
"John Maher, a man of substance, with dull mind,
And quiet senses and unventurous heart.
The angels think him safe." Two hundred crowns,
All for a soul, a little breath of wind.
THE MAN
I ask three hundred crowns. You have read there
That no mere lapse of days can make me yours.
FIRST MERCHANT
There is something more writ here—"Often at night
He is wakeful from a dread of growing poor,
And thereon wonders if there's any man
That he could rob in safety."
A PEASANT
Who'd have thought it?
And I was once alone with him at midnight.
ANOTHER PEASANT
I will not trust my mother after this.