While the BeeMaster was out a thief stole the empty hives. While he was pondering the theft the bees came back and started to sting him. Silly bees.
Don’t take your friends for foes.
There came a thief into a bee-garden in the absence of the master, and robb’d the hives. The owner discovered it upon his return, and stood pausing a while to be-think himself, how this should come to pass. The bees, in this interim, came laden home out of the fields from feeding, and missing their combs, they fell powdering in swarms upon their master. Well (says he) you are a company of senseless and ungrateful wretches, to let a stranger go away quietly that has rifled ye, and to bend all your spite against your master, that is at this instant beating his brains how he may repair and preserve ye.
‘Tis the curse of the world for people to take their friends for their foes, and to use them accordingly.
Apes, Fur, et Mellarius
Cum forte abesset apium dominus, ingressus apiarium fur exsecuit favos et alvearia compilavit. Reversus mellarius, alvearibus inanibus repertis, ad illa constitit, dolens damno suo et quaerens secum quid ageret. Interea redeunt apiculae de pastu et in illum infestae involant, pungentesque aculeis suis pessime accipiunt hominem qui, iratus, “Sceleratae,” inquit, “animantes! Furem dimisistis intactum; me vero curatorem vestrum affligitis.”