Chapter 81

He would as much as possible keep her always in his sight, and would sometimes put his trunk under her handkerchief into her bosom, to feel her breasts. They tell also of a dragon in love with a girl, and of a goose enamoured of a child; of a ram that was suitor to the minstrelless Glaucia, in the town of Asopus; and we see not unfrequently baboons furiously in love with women. We see also certain male animals that are fond of the males of their own kind. Oppian and others give us some examples of the reverence that beasts have to their kindred in their copulations; but experience often shows us the contrary:-- Nec habetur turpe juvencæ Ferre patrem tergo; fit equo sua filia conjux; Quasque creavit, init pecudes caper; ipsaque cujus Semine concepta est, ex illo concipit ales. “The heifer thinks it not a shame to take Her lusty sire upon her willing back: The horse his daughter leaps, goats scruple not T’ increase the herd by those they have begot; And birds of all sorts do in common live, And by the seed they have conceived conceive.” And for subtle cunning, can there be a more pregnant example than in the philosopher Thales’s mule? who, fording a river, laden with salt, and by accident stumbling there, so that the sacks he carried were all wet, perceiving that by the melting of the salt his burden was something lighter, he never failed, so oft as he came to any river, to lie down with his load; till his master, discovering the knavery, ordered that he should be laden with wood? wherein, finding himself mistaken, he ceased to practise that device. There are several that very vividly represent the true image of our avarice; for we see them infinitely solicitus to get all they can, and hide it with that exceeding great care, though they never make any use of it at all. As to thrift, they surpass us not only in the foresight and laying up, and saving for the time to come, but they have, moreover, a great deal of the science necessary thereto. The ants bring abroad into the sun their grain and seed to air, refresh and dry them when they perceive them to mould and grow musty, lest they should decay and rot. But the caution and prevention they use in gnawing their grains of wheat surpass all imagination of human prudence; for by reason that the wheat does not always continue sound and dry, but grows soft, thaws and dissolves as if it were steeped in milk, whilst hasting to germination; for fear lest it should shoot and lose the nature and property of a magazine for their subsistence, they nibble off the end by which it should shoot and sprout. As to what concerns war, which is the greatest and most magnificent of human actions, I would very fain know whether we would use it for an argument of some prerogative or, on contrary, for a testimony of our weakness and imperfection; as, in truth, the science of undoing and killing one another, and of ruining and destroying our own kind, has nothing in it so tempting as to make it be coveted by beasts who have it not. Quando leoni Fortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquam Expiravit aper majoris dentibus apri? “No lion drinks a weaker lion’s gore, No boar expires beneath a stronger boar.” Yet are they not universally exempt; witness the furious encounters of bees, and the enterprises of the princes of the contrary armies:-- Sæpe duobus Regibus incessit magno discordia motu; Continuoque animos vulgi et trepidantia bello Gorda licet longé præsciscere. “But if contending factions arm the hive, When rival kings in doubtful battle strive, Tumultuous crowds the dread event prepare, And palpitating hearts that beat to war.” I never read this divine description but that, methinks, I there see human folly and vanity represented in their true and lively colours. For these warlike movements, that so ravish us with their astounding noise and horror, this rattle of guns, drums, and cries, Fulgur ibi ad coelum se tollit, totaque circum Ære renidescit tellus, subterque virûm vi Excitur pedibus sonitus, clamoreque montes Icti rejectant voces ad sidera mundi; “When burnish’d arms to heaven dart their rays, And many a steely beam i’ th’ sunlight plays, When trampled is the earth by horse and man, Until the very centre groans again, And that the rocks, struck by the various cries, Reverberate the sound unto the skies;” in the dreadful embattling of so many thousands of armed men, and so great fury, ardour, and courage, ‘tis pleasant to consider by what idle occasions they are excited, and by how light ones appeased:-- Paridis propter narratur amorem Greciæ Barbariæ diro collisa duello: “Of wanton Paris the illicit love Did Greece and Troy to ten years’ warfare move:” all Asia was ruined and destroyed for the lust of Paris; the envy of one single man, a despite, a pleasure, a domestic jealousy, causes that ought not to set two oyster-wenches by the ears, is the mover of all this mighty bustle. Shall we believe those very men who are themselves the principal authors of these mischiefs? Let us then hear the greatest, the most powerful, the most victorious emperor that ever was, turning into a jest, very pleasantly and ingeniously, several battles fought both by sea and land, the blood and lives of five hundred thousand men that followed his fortune, and the strength and riches of two parts of the world drained for the expense of his expeditions:-- Quod futuit Glaphyran Antonius, hanc mihi poenam Fulvia constituit, se quoqne uti futuam. Fulviam ego ut futuam! quid, si me Manius oret Podicem, faciam? Non puto, si sapiam. Aut futue, aut pugnemus, ait Quid, si mihi vitii Charior est ipsâ mentula? Signa canant. Qui? moi, que je serve Fulvie! Sufflt-il quelle en ait envie? A ce compte, on verrait se retirer von moi Mille épouses mal satisfaites. Aime-moi, me dit elle, ou combattons. Mais quoi? Elle est bien laide! Allons, sonnes trompettes. ‘Cause Anthony is fired with Glaphire’s charms Fain would his Fulvia tempt me to her arms. If Anthony be false, what then? must I Be slave to Fulvia’s lustful tyranny? Then would a thousand wanton, waspish wives, (I use my Latin with the liberty of conscience you are pleased to allow me.) Now this great body, with so many fronts, and so many motions, which seems to threaten heaven and earth:-- Quam multi Lybico volvuntur marmore fluctus, Sævus ubi Orion hibemis conditur undis, Vel quam solo novo densæ torrentur Aristæ, Aut Hermi campo, aut Lyciæ flaventibus arvis; Scuta sonant, pulsuque pedum tremit excita tellus: “Not thicker billows beat the Lybian main, When pale Orion sits in wintry rain; Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, Or Lycian fields, when Phobus burns the skies, Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around; Their trampling turns the turf and shakes the solid ground:” this furious monster, with so many heads and arms, is yet man--feeble, calamitous, and miserable man! ‘Tis but an ant-hill disturbed and provoked:-- It nigrum campis agmen: “The black troop marches to the field:” a contrary blast, the croaking of a flight of ravens, the stumble of a horse, the casual passage of an eagle, a dream, a voice, a sign, a morning mist, are any one of them sufficient to beat down and overturn him. Dart but a sunbeam in his face, he is melted and vanished. Blow but a little dust in his eyes, as our poet says of the bees, and all our ensigns and legions, with the great Pompey himself at the head of them, are routed and crushed to pieces; for it was he, as I take it, that Sertorious beat in Spain with those fine arms, which also served Eumenes against Antigonus, and Surena against Crassus:-- “Swarm to my bed like bees into their hives. Declare for love, or war, she said; and frown’d: No love I’ll grant: to arms bid trumpets sound.” Hi motus animorum, atque hoc certamina tanta, Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescent. “Yet at thy will these dreadful conflicts cease, Throw but a little dust and all is peace.” Let us but slip our flies after them, and they will have the force and courage to defeat them. Of fresh memory, the Portuguese having besieged the city of Tamly, in the territory of Xiatine, the inhabitants of the place brought a great many hives, of which are great plenty in that place, upon the wall; and with fire drove the bees so furiously upon the enemy that they gave over the enterprise, not being able to stand their attacks and endure their stings; and so the citizens, by this new sort of relief, gained liberty and the victory with so wonderful a fortune, that at the return of their defenders from the battle they found they had not lost so much as one. The souls of emperors and cobblers are cast in the same mould; the weight and importance of the actions of princes considered, we persuade ourselves that they must be produced by some as weighty and important causes; but we are deceived; for they are pushed on, and pulled back in their motions, by the same springs that we are in our little undertakings. The same reason that makes us wrangle with a neighbour causes a war betwixt princes; the same reason that makes us whip a lackey, falling into the hands of a king makes him ruin a whole province. They are as lightly moved as we, but they are able to do more. In a gnat and an elephant the passion is the same. As to fidelity, there is no animal in the world so treacherous as man. Our histories have recorded the violent pursuits that dogs have made after the murderers of their masters. King Pyrrhus observing a dog that watched a dead man’s body, and understanding that he had for three days together performed that office, commanded that the body should be buried, and took the dog along with him. One day, as he was at a general muster of his army, this dog, seeing his master’s murderers, with great barking and extreme signs of anger flew upon them, and by this first accusation awakened the revenge of this murder, which was soon after perfected by form of justice. As much was done by the dog of the wise Hesiod, who convicted the sons of Ganictor of Naupactus of the murder committed on the person of his master. Another dog being to guard a temple at Athens, having spied a sacrilegious thief carrying away the finest jewels, fell to barking at him with all his force, but the warders not awaking at the noise, he followed him, and day being broke, kept off at a little distance, without losing sight of him; if he offered him any thing to eat he would not take it, but would wag his tail at all the passengers he met, and took whatever they gave him; and if the thief laid down to sleep, he likewise stayed upon the same place. The news of this dog being come to the warders of the temple they put themselves upon the pursuit, inquiring of the colour of the dog, and at last found him in the city of Cromyon, and the thief also, whom they brought back to Athens, where he got his reward; and the judges, in consideration of this good office, ordered a certain measure of corn for the dog’s daily sustenance, at the public charge, and the priests to take care of it. Plutarch delivers this story for a certain truth, and that it happened in the age wherein he lived. As to gratitude (for I think we need bring this word into a little repute), this one example, which Apion reports himself to have been an eye-witness of, shall suffice. “One day,” says he, “at Rome, they entertained the people with the sight of the fighting of several strange beasts, and principally of lions of an unusual size; there was one amongst the rest who, by his furious deportment, by the strength and largeness of his limbs, and by his loud and dreadful roaring, attracted the eyes of all the spectators. Amongst other slaves that were presented to the people in this combat of beasts there was one Androdus, of Dacia, belonging to a Roman lord of consular dignity. This lion having seen him at a distance first made a sudden stop, as it were in a wondering posture, and then softly approached nearer in a gentle and peaceable manner, as if it were to enter into acquaintance with him. This being done, and being now assured of what he sought for, he began to wag his tail, as dogs do when they flatter their masters, and to kiss and lick the hands and thighs of the poor wretch, who was beside himself, and almost dead with fear. Androdus being by this kindness of the lion a little come to himself, and having taken so much heart as to consider and know him, it was a singular pleasure to see the joy and caresses that passed betwixt them. At which the people breaking into loud acclamations of joy, the emperor caused the slave to be called, to know from him the cause of so strange an event; who thereupon told him a new and a very strange story: “My master,” said he, “being pro-consul in Africa, I was constrained, by his severity and cruel usage, being daily beaten, to steal from him and run away; and, to hide myself secretly from a person of so great authority in the province, I thought it my best way to fly to the solitudes, sands, and uninhabitable parts of that country, resolving that in case the means of supporting life should chance to fail me, to make some shift or other to kill myself. The sun being excessively hot at noon, and the heat intolerable, I lit upon a private and almost inaccessible cave, and went into it Soon after there came in to me this lion, with one foot wounded and bloody, complaining and groaning with the pain he endured. At his coming I was exceeding afraid; but he having spied me hid in the comer of his den, came gently to me, holding out and showing me his wounded foot, as if he demanded my assistance in his distress. I then drew out a great splinter he had got there, and, growing a little more familiar with him, squeezing the wound thrust out the matter, dirt, and gravel which was got into it, and wiped and cleansed it the best I could. He, finding himself something better, and much eased of his pain, laid him down to rest, and presently fell asleep with his foot in my hand.