158 



THE KING'S MIRROR 



Now as to the time that you asked about, it seems to 

 me most correct to say that one should hardly venture 

 over-seas later than the beginning of October. For at 

 that time the sea begins to grow very restless, and the 

 tempests always increase in violence as autumn passes 

 'and winter approaches. [And about the time when we 

 [date thefsixteenth of Octoberjthe east wind begins to 

 look sorrowful and thinks himself disgraced, now that 

 Ihis headgear, the golden crown, is taken away. He puts 

 a cloud-covered hat on his head and breathes heavily 

 and violently, as if mourning a recent loss. But when 

 the southeast wind sees how vexed his neighbor is, he 

 is stricken with a double grief: the one sorrow is that 

 he fears the same deprivation as the east wind has suf- 

 fered; the other is grief over the misfortunes of his good 

 and estimable neighbor. Stirred by the distress of a re- 

 sentful mind, he knits his brows under the hiding clouds 

 and blows the froth violently about him. When the south 

 wind sees the wrath of his near neighbors, he wraps him- 

 self in a cloud-lined mantle in which he conceals his treas- 

 ures and his wealth of warm rays and blows vigorously as 

 if in terrifying defence. And when the southwest wind 

 observes how friendship has cooled, now that the truce 

 is broken, he sobs forth his soul's grief in heavy showers, 

 rolls his eyes above his tear-moistened beard, puffs his 

 cheeks under the cloudy helmet, blows the chilling 

 scud violently forward, leads forth huge billows, wide- 

 breasted waves, and breakers that yearn for ships, and 

 orders all the tempests to dash forward in angry contest. 



But when the west wind observes that a wrathful 

 blast and a sorrowful sighing are coming across to him 



