days, from his tender youth till
the time that he was fifty years of age, he never cared or wanted to do
anything else.

When he had arrived at this last mentioned age, he began to think about
his condition, and to see that he had spent and employed all his days
and years in heaping up riches without ever having for a single minute
or moment been inclined to think of marrying and having children, to
whom the great wealth, that he had by great diligence and labour amassed
and acquired, would succeed. This thought caused him much mental sorrow,
and he was greatly vexed that he had thus spent his youth.

This grief and regret lasted many days, during which time it happened
that in the above-named city, the young children, after they had
solemnized some festival, did as they were accustomed each year, and
variously apparelled and disguised, some this way and some that, came in
great numbers to the place where the public rejoicings of the city are
usually held, to play in the presence of their fathers and mothers, and
to have their costumes praised and admired.

At this assembly was our merchant, still moody and vexed, and the
sight of so many fathers and mothers taking pleasure in watching their
children dance and sport, increased the grief that was preying on his
mind, and, unable to watch them any longer, he returned to his house,
sad and vexed, and retired to his lonely chamber, where he remained some
time, uttering complaints of this kind;

"Ah, poor, miserable, old man that I am and always have been, and for
whom fate and destiny are hard, bitter, and unpleasant. Oh, wretched
man! worn out and weary by watching and work, suffered and borne by
land and sea. Your great riches and heaped-up treasures, which with
many perilous adventures, hard work, and sweat you have amassed, and for
which you have expended all your time, are but vain, for you have never
thought who will possess them, and to whom by human law you should leave
your memory and your name when you are dead and gone. Oh, wicked man,
how could you have been careless of that of which you should have taken
most heed? Marriage never pleased you, and you always feared and refused
it, and even disliked and scorned the good and just counsels of those
who would have found you a wife, in order that you might have offspring
who would perpetuate your name, your praise, and your renown. Oh, how
happy are those parents who leave good and wise children to succeed
them!