To be the Pope in Rome, weariness;
Or that peasant there, weariness;
Not to go to Paradise, great weariness;
All, all the world is but weariness.[48]
THE POOR GENTLEMAN
Ordonho. Who is your master, brother, say?
Apariço. O, it is the devil himself. Year in, year out, we are both dead of hunger and misery.
O. Who does he pass the time with?
A. What do I know! He goes about like a scalded dog.
O. And what is his occupation?