“Look, friend,” said Babo to the cook, “here I have some of the same medicine. Give me the two hundred pennies that the master would not take, and I’ll cure her for you as sound as a bottle.” “Very well,” said the cook, and he counted out the two hundred pennies, and Babo slipped them into his pocket. He bade the woman open her mouth, and when she had done so he poured all the stuff down her throat at once. “Ugh!” said she, and therewith rolled up her eyes, and lay as stiff and dumb as a herring in a box. When the cook saw what Babo had done, he snatched up the rolling-pin and made at him to pound his head to a jelly. But Babo did not wait for his coming; he jumped out of the window, and away he scampered with the cook at his heels. Well, the upshot of the business was that Simon Agricola had to go back and bring life to the woman again, or the cook would thump him and Babo both with the rolling-pin. And, what was more, Babo had to pay back the two hundred pennies that the cook had given him for curing his wife. The wise man made a cross upon the woman’s forehead, and up she sat, as well--but no better--as before. “And now be off,” said the cook, “or I will call the servants and give you both a drubbing for a pair of scamps.” Simon Agricola said never a word until they had gotten out of the town. There his anger boiled over, like water into the fire. “Look,” said he to Babo: “Born a fool, live a fool, die a fool.’ I want no more of you. Here are two roads; you take one, and I will take the other.” “What!” said Babo, “am I to travel the rest of the way alone? And then, besides, how about the fortune you promised me?” “Never mind that,” said Simon Agricola; “I have not made my own fortune yet.” “Well, at least pay me something for my wages,” said Babo. “How shall I pay you?” said Simon Agricola. “I have not a single groat in the world.” “What!” said Babo, “have you nothing to give me?” “I can give you a piece of advice.” “Well,” said Babo, “that is better than nothing, so let me have it.” “Here it is,” said Simon Agricola: “Think well! Think well!--before you do what you are about to do, think well!’” “Thank you!” said Babo; and then the one went one way, and the other the other. (You may go with the wise man if you choose, but I shall jog along with the simpleton.) After Babo had travelled for a while, he knew not whither, night caught him, and he lay down under a hedge to sleep. There he lay, and snored away like a saw-mill, for he was wearied with his long journeying.