La Fontaine, they add, accordingly, like the husband in Belphegor, took occasion to absent himself as often and as long as he could. Others, again, assert that the lady was gentle as she was beautiful, and that her husband bore testimony to her good qualities of temper expressly, as well as to her taste, by submitting to her his poetical labours. It may be said, that the neglect and absences of such a husband as La Fontaine form no presumption against the conjugal temper of his wife. Some anecdotes related of his negligence and distractions startle belief. Despatched by his father to Paris, on business the most important and most urgent, he met a friend, dined with him, went to the play with him, supped with him, took up his lodging for the night in his house, and returned to Château Thierry next day. "Well, you have arranged every thing satisfactorily?" said the father. La Fontaine opened wide his eyes in astonishment. He had wholly forgotten the matter till that moment! Going to Paris on another occasion, with papers, upon which depended his private fortune and his public charge, he was overtaken by the postman. "Monsieur," said the latter, "has dropped some papers on the way." "No, no," replied the poet. But the other, knowing with whom he had to do, or having discovered from the papers to whom they belonged, requested him to examine his saddle-bags; upon which he remembered, for the first time, that he even had papers to lose. In his reveries and distractions, he was unconscious not only of the lapse of time but of the inclemency of the weather. He loved reading and musing in the open air. The duchess of Bouillon left him one morning, with a Livy in his hand, pacing up and down between two rows of trees. On her return in the evening she found him still pacing and reading in the same place. What made this the more extraordinary was a heavy fall of rain in the interim, and La Fontaine having all the time had his head uncovered.