But the rogue no longer laid them on his shoulders, but laid on to the trees, with such groans every now and then, that one would have thought at each of them his soul was being plucked up by the roots.
Pero el socarrón dejó de dárselos en las espaldas, y daba en los árboles, con unos suspiros de cuando en cuando, que parecía que con cada uno dellos se le arrancaba el alma.