But even if they are filled with toss silk, I can tell you, senor, I am not going to fight; let our masters fight, that's their lookout, and let us drink and live; for time will take care to ease us of our lives, without our going to look for fillips so that they may be finished off before their proper time comes and they drop from ripeness."
Pero, aunque se llenaran de capullos de seda, sepa, señor mío, que no he de pelear: peleen nuestros amos, y allá se lo hayan, y bebamos y vivamos nosotros, que el tiempo tiene cuidado de quitarnos las vidas, sin que andemos buscando apetites para que se acaben antes de llegar su sazón y término y que se cayan de maduras.