It is gold that brings power, and the stiffest royal neck must bend to him who has the deep coffers.

It is gold and his high hand that will set my Philip by the side of kings.

Lord Jesus, what a fortune I have made for him! There is coined money at the goldsmiths' and in my cellars, and the ships at the ports, and a hundred busy looms, and lands in Hainault and Artois, and fair houses in Bruges and Ghent.

Boats on the Rhine and many pack trains between Antwerp and Venice are his, and a wealth of preciousness lies in his name with the Italian merchants.
Likewise there is this dwelling of mine, with plenishing which few kings could buy.

My sands sink in the glass, but as I lie a-bed I hear the bustle of wains and horses in the streets, and the talk of shipfolk, and the clatter of my serving men beneath, and I know that daily, hourly, more riches flow hither to furnish my son's kingdom." The monk's eyes sparkled at this vision of wealth, and he remembered his errand.
"A most noble heritage.