Now this unhappy burgess knew not what to do, for some of his acquaintance gazed the other way, whilst men, to whom he had done naught but good, jested upon him openly in the street. Doubtless such is the way of the world to those honest folk who are cast beneath at the turn of Fortune's wheel. Therefore those to whom he had shown the greatest kindness requited him with the utmost despite, counting him viler than a dog; and those, who in his day of prosperity loved and affected his company, were the very men who now mocked and despised him. Well say the Scriptures, Put not your trust in man. For in these days faith is so rare and so forgetful, that the son fails the father in his peril, and the mother may not count upon her maid. Mad is he who strips himself for others, for so soon as he comes before them naked, then they cry, "Beggar, begone!" When this citizen, who for so long a while had known such great honour, saw himself so scorned, and found that in all the town he had neither kinsman nor friend, he knew not what to say or do, nor whom to take for counsel in his need. So, by the will of God, he turned in his despair to a certain Jew, the richest in all the city. Him he sought out straightway, with a face aflame, and said-- "Master Jew, here is my case. All my daughters, all my sons, all my friends, and, very surely, all of those to whom I have done most good in this world, have failed me utterly and every one. I am stripped of all my substance. Foolish have I been, and unlucky, since I wasted all I had on those very clerks and laymen who desert me now. I am a merchant of great knowledge, and so you will lend me of your treasure, I count to gain so largely, that never shall I have to pray another for a loan; for of your wealth will I make such usage that all will think the more of me thereby." "Because you have dealt so generously with others," answered the Jew, "in this very hour will I lend you freely of my moneys if you can give me pledge or surety for them." But the Christian made answer to him-- "Fair, sweet friend, all my kinsfolk and acquaintance have cast me utterly behind them, neither care they for me any more, notwithstanding that they thrive by reason of my gifts and toil. I can offer no kinsman as surety, nor have I a friend in the world. But though I can give neither pledge nor surety, strive how I may, yet I swear to you now on my faith and conscience, that, without fail, I will repay you your loan and your substance on the very day that the debt becomes due." "If things are thus, I can lend you nothing," answered the Jew; "for grievously I doubt that you may not carry out your bargain."