And thereupon each of the rioters ran Until they reach’d the tree, and there they found A heap of golden florins, bright and round, Well-nigh seven bushels of them, as they thought. And then no longer after Death they sought, But each of them so glad was at the sight, The florins were so beauteous and so bright, That down they sat beside the precious hoard. The worst one was the first to speak a word. “Brothers,” said he, “take heed of what I say, For I am wise, although I jest and play, This treasure makes our fortune, so that we May lead our lives in mirth and jollity, And lightly as it comes, we’ll lightly spend. By heaven! who would have thought that luck would send Us three good friends to-day so fair a grace? But could this gold be carried from this place Home to my house, or else to one of yours (For all this gold I well know is not ours) Then were we in complete felicity. But, truly, during day it cannot be, People would call us thieves, and possibly Hang us for our own treasure on a tree. This treasure should be carried off by night, As cleverly and slily as it might. I counsel then, that we among us all Draw lots, and see to whom the lot will fall, And he that hath the lot shall cheerfully Go back into the town, and speedily, And bring us bread and wine full privily; Meanwhile we two keep safe and secretly This treasure here: and if he do not tarry, When the night comes we will the treasure carry, By one assent, where we think best, or list.” This man then held the lots within his fist, And bade them draw and see where it would fall; It fell upon the youngest of them all, Who therefore toward the town went forth anon. As soon as their companion was gone The first one subtly spoke unto the other: “Thou knowest well that thou art my sworn brother, I’ll tell thee what thy profit is to-day. Thou seest that our fellow is away, And here is gold, all heap’d up plenteously, Which is to be divided ’mong us three. But, nevertheless, if I can shape it so That it might be divided ’mong us _two_, Have I not done a friend’s turn unto thee?” “I know not,” said the other, “how that may be; He knows quite well the gold is with us two, What should we say to him? what should we do?” “Shall it be counsel?” said the first again-- “And in a few words I shall tell thee plain, What we shall do to bring the thing about.” “I promise,” said the other, “without doubt That I, for one, will not be treacherous.”