...nor would you think a decrepit man lacks envy. A healthy person does not realize how blessed he is to survive; to remain well, he would trade away all the riches of a Cretan field. Brothers and business partners fall into discord when the pot boils poorly on a shared hearth. Moneylenders assign deadlines and sell off pawns, while weavers draw the threads thin in their cloth. For pirates, life is a wretched and suspicious tyranny. A harsh father or a devoted mother may love their children, but when the cat is away, the mice dance across the chests—just as the maidservant does when the mistress leaves the house.

Young girls delight in seeing their faces in a mirror, and if you give a fussy infant something sweet, he falls silent. Neighbors are always at odds, and sisters-in-law constant in their bickering. The flute player begs for coins with a discordant tune. While the actor plays to the common folk, the apothecary peddles mandrake in the middle of the marketplace; he wraps a snake around his throat and, displaying a cock's brain, pricks it with a needle and "cures" the bird with a bit of powder.

Those who rent out pack animals or workhorses provide a replacement that is always poorly fed. One man beats his mute beasts after a banquet, and the spur never stops goading the horse. The plowman, in his heavy boots, rages against the bulls, nor does the watcher stop goats from invading the vines. Pigs devastate the harvest while the swineherds sleep; likewise, the shepherd tramples the meadows meant for mowing. The reaper leaves stalks behind for the boys, and the haymakers prepare their scythes with wet whetstones. Fruit pickers fill their bellies with the best of the crop, while your baskets are always filled with sour grapes.

A fortunate man recognizes neither himself nor his friends, whereas every unlucky man is forced to be pious. The "wise" man who believes himself wise is mistaken; he who thinks he knows everything is called a fool. While we live, we think we will live forever, just as the athlete always believes he will finish his course. A dying man would carry off his wife, children, and household gods if only he had the back of Phrygian Aeneas. The heir groans in his mourning clothes, yet laughs in the depths of his heart; a brief dirge satisfies him. He denies trusts and debts, and unless officially named the successor, he claws at the wealth.

As for students, if a minor festival is celebrated in the city, they bury the professors' lecterns under straw. They break down doors at night with frequent visits, and afterwards, they never stop writing: "Send money, Father. Send money, Father, unless you want us to head for the Indies or quickly seek the path of religion." They promise to devote themselves to their studies hereafter, while in the meantime, their current mischief continues...