THE PEACOCK. (Pavo cristatus.)
Astonished at the unparalleled beauty of this bird, the ancients could not help indulging their lively and creative fancy, in accounting for the magnificence of his plumage. They made him the favourite of imperial Juno, sister and wife to Jupiter; and not less than the hundred eyes of Argus were pulled out to ornament his tail; indeed, there is scarcely anything in nature that can vie with the transcendent lustre of the Peacock’s feathers. The changing glory of his neck eclipses the deep azure of ultramarine; and at the least evolution, it assumes the green tint of the emerald, and the purple hue of the amethyst. His head, which is small and finely shaped, has several curious stripes of white and black round the eyes, and is surmounted by an elegant plume, or tuft of feathers, each of which is composed of a slender stem and a small tuft at the top. Displayed with conscious pride, and exposed under a variety of angles to the reflections of light, the broad and variegated disks of his train, of which the neck, head, and breast of the bird become the centre, claim our admiration. By an extraordinary mixture of the brightest colours, it displays at once the richness of gold, and the paler tints of silver, fringed with bronze-coloured edges, and surrounding eye-like spots of dark brown and sapphire. The hen does not share in the beauty of the cock, and her feathers are generally of a light brown. She lays only a few eggs at a time, generally at an interval of three or four days; they are white and spotted, like the eggs of the turkey. She sits from twenty-seven to thirty days.
The loud screamings of the Peacock are worse than the harsh croakings of the raven, and a sure prognostic of bad weather; and his feet, more clumsy than those of the turkey, make a sad contrast with the elegance of his plumage:
“Though richest hues the Peacock’s plumes adorn,
Yet horror screams from his discordant throat.”
The spreading of the train, the swelling of the throat, neck, and breast, and the puffing noise which they emit at certain times, are proofs that the Turkey and the Peacock stand nearly allied in the family chain of animated beings.
The flesh of the Peacock was anciently esteemed a princely dish; and the whole bird used to be served on the table with the feathers of the neck and tail preserved; but few people could now relish such food, as it is much coarser than the flesh of the turkey. The Italians have given this laconic description of the Peacock: “He has the plumage of an angel, the voice of a devil, and the stomach of a thief.”