The following extract from Pliny's account of the lion, "right pleasaunte" as it is in the original, is rendered still more so by Dr Holland. "To come againe to our lions: the signe of their intent and disposition, is their taile; like as in horses, their ears: for these two marks and tokens, certainly hath nature given to the most couragious beasts of all others, to know their affections by: for when the lion stirreth not his taile, hee is in a good mood, gentle, mild, pleasantly disposed, and as if hee were willing to be plaied withall; but in that fit he is seldome seene: for lightly hee is alwaies angrie. At the first, when hee entreth into his choller, hee beateth the ground with his taile: when hee groweth into greater heats, he flappeth and jerketh his sides and flanks withall, as it were to quicken himselfe, and stirre up his angry humor. His maine strength lieth in his breast: hee maketh not a wound (whether it be by lash of taile, scratch of claw, or print of tooth), but the bloud that followeth is blacke. When his belly is once full, all his anger is past, and he doth no more harme. His generositie and magnanimitie he sheweth most in his daungers: which courage of his appeareth not onely herein, that he seemeth to despise all shot of darts against him, defending himselfe a long time onely with the terrible aspect of his countenance, and protesting as it were that he is unwilling to deale unlesse he be forced thereto in his own defence, and at length maketh head againe, not as compelled and driven thereto for any perill that he seeth, but angred at their follie that assaile and set upon him: but herein also is seen rather his noble heart and courage, that be there never so many of hounds and hunters both following after him, so long as hee is in the open plaines where he may be seene, hee maketh semblance as though he contemned both dog and man, dismarching and retiring with honour, and otherwhiles seeming in his retreat to turne againe and make head; but when he hath gained the thickets and woods, and gotten once into the forrests out of sight, then he skuds away, then hee runneth amaine for life, as knowing full well that the trees and bushes hide him, that his shamefull dislodging and flight is not then espied. When he chaseth and followeth after other beasts, hee goeth alwaies saltant or rampant; which he never useth to doe when he is chased in sight, but is onely passant. If hee chaunce to be wounded, hee hath a marveilous eye to marke the partie that did it, and be the hunters never so many in number, upon him he runneth onely. As for him that hath let flie a dart at him, and yet missed his marke and done no hurt, if he chaunce to catch him, hee all to touzeth, shaketh, tosseth, and turneth him lying along at his feet, but doth him no harme at all besides. When the lionesse fighteth for her young whelpes, by report, she setteth her eies wistly, and entirely upon the ground, because she would not be affrighted at the sight of the chasing-staves of the hunters. Lions are nothing at all craftie and fraudulent, neither be they suspicious: they never look askew, but alwaies cast their eie directly forward, and they love not that any man should in that sort looke side-long upon them. It is constantly beleeved, that when they lie a dying they bite the earth, and in their very death shed teares. This creature, so noble as he is, and withall so cruell and fell, trembleth and quaketh to heare the noise of cartwheeles, or to see them turne about; nay he cannot abide of all things charriots when they be void and emptie: frighted he is with the cocks comb, and his crowing much more, but most of all with the sight of fire. The lion is never sick but of the peevishnes of his stomacke, loathing all meat: and then the way to cure him, is to tie unto him certain shee apes, which with their wanton mocking and making mowes at him, may move his patience and drive him for the verie indignitie of their malapert saucinesse, into a fit of madnesse; and then, so soone as he hath tasted their blood, he is perfectly well againe: and this is the onely remedie.
"Q. Scævola the sonne of Publius, was the first at Rome that in his Curule Ædileship exhibited a fight and combat of many lions togither, for to shew the people pastime and pleasure: but L. Sylla, who afterwards was Dictatour, was the first of all others that in his Pretorship represented a shew of an hundred lions, with manes and collars of haire: and after him Pompeius the Great shewed 600 of them fighting in the grand Cirque, whereof 315 were male lions with mane. And Cæsar Dictatour brought 400 of them into the shew-place. The taking of them in old time was a verie hard peece of worke, and that was commonly in pit-fals; but in the Emperor Claudius his daies it chaunced, that a shepheard or heardman who came out of Gætulia, taught the manner of catching them: a thing (otherwise) that would have been thought incredible, and altogither unbeseeming the name and honour of so goodly a beast. This Getulian I say, fortuned to encounter a lion, and when he was violently assailed by him, made no more adoe but threw his mandilion or cassocke full upon his eies. This feat or cast of his was soone after practised in the open shew-place, in such sort, that a man would hardly have beleeved, but he that saw it, that so furious a beast should so easily be quailed and daunted so soone as ever hee felt his head covered, were the things never so light; making no resistance, but suffering one to doe what he would with him, even to bind him fast, as if in very truth all his vigor and spirit rested in his eyes. Lesse therefore is it to be marvelled at, that Lysimachus strangled a lion, when as by commaundement of Alexander the Great, he was shut up alone togither with him. The first that yoked them at Rome and made them to draw in a charriot, was M. Antonius. And verily it was in the time of civill warre, after the battaile fought in the plains of Pharsalia, a shrewd fore-token and unhappie presage for the future event, and namely, for men of an high spirit and brave mind in those daies, unto whom this prodigious sight did prognosticate the yoke of subjection: for what should I say, how Antonie rode in that wise with the courtisan Cytheris, a common actresse in enterludes upon the stage? to see such a sight was a monstrous spectacle, that passed all the calamities of those times. It is reported, that Hanno (one of the noblest Carthaginians that ever were) was the first man that durst handle a lion with his bare hand, and shewe him gentle and tame, to follow him all the citie over in a slip like a dogge. But this device and tricke of his turned him to great domage, and cost him his utter undoing: for the Carthaginians hereupon laid this ground, that Hanno, a man of such a gift, so wittie and inventive of all devises, would be able to persuade the people to whatsoever his mind stood; and that it was a daungerous and ticklish point to put the libertie of so great a state as Carthage was, into the hands and managing of him, who could handle and tame the furious violence of so savage a beast: and thereupon condemned and banished him." He then relates two examples of the gentleness of this animal, or rather of his confidence in man. On one occasion, a lion applied to Mentor, a Syracusan, for relief from a thorn which had pierced his foot; and on another, Elpis, a Samian, had the honour, when in Africa, of extracting a bone from the palate of the royal beast, for which he was rewarded by him with an abundant supply of fresh venison so long as he remained in the country.
In this book Pliny follows no methodical arrangement, either as to the animals themselves or as to the descriptions and anecdotes in each article. He commences indeed with the largest, and ends with mice, which are among the smallest bred on land; but in this catalogue he includes mammalia, crocodiles, lizards, serpents, and snails. It may be said generally, that in his descriptions at least three-fourths of each article are erroneous, false, or fabulous; and that he scarcely anywhere attempts to elicit general principles, or to discover the circumstances in which animals agree or differ. It were therefore vain for the student of nature to look into this book for any information on which he could place reliance, with respect to their organization or habits. Some particulars respecting the exhibition at Rome of elephants, lions, panthers, crocodiles, and other ferocious creatures, with the combats of which the emperors and great men amused the people, and a few facts relating to the geographical distribution of the more interesting species, are all that the reader finds to recompense him for the labour of examination.
The ninth book treats of fishes, crabs, sea-urchins, mollusca, and other marine animals, including not only turtles and cetacea, but also mermaids, tritons, and other fabulous creatures. These he arranges in no definite order, although he proposes a kind of classification founded on the covering or skin; some, as seals and hippopotami, having a skin and hair; others skin only, as the dolphin; while the tortoises are covered with a substance resembling bark; oysters and other shells with a substance as hard as flint; echini with crusts and prickles; fishes with scales; sharks with a rough skin fit for polishing wood; lampreys with a soft skin; and polypi with none at all.
As might be expected, many wonderful tales are related of the dolphin, which was a special favourite with the ancients, on account of its supposed attachment to the human species. One of these animals, if we may credit Pliny and his authorities, carried a boy daily to school and home again, from Baianum to Puteoli; another, who used to mount a child on his back, having one day suffered him to be drowned, brought back his body, and out of grief thrust himself ashore, where he of course died; and, lastly, a king of Caria having caught a dolphin, and kept him prisoner within the harbour, a whole multitude of the same species came to beg his release, and remained until their prayer was granted.
The most interesting chapters in this book are those on pearls and the shell-fish that furnished the purple dye so highly esteemed by the Romans. This oyster, he says, which is the mother-of-pearl, at a certain season of the year, gapes and receives one or more drops of a kind of dew, which are ultimately converted into pearls. According to the nature of this dew, or the state of the weather at the time of its being received, the pearl is dusky or white, dull or possessed of a brilliant lustre. These ornaments were very highly esteemed in Pliny's days. The ladies wore them dangling at their fingers and ears, took great delight in hearing them rattle, and not only appended them to their upper garments, but even embroidered their buskins with them. It will not suffice them, says he, nor serve their turn, to carry pearls about them, but they must tread upon pearls, go among pearls, and walk as it were on a pavement of pearls. Lollia Paulina, the wife of Caligula, was seen by him, on an ordinary occasion, ornamented with emeralds and pearls, which she valued at forty millions of sestertii (about £300,000).
The two finest specimens ever seen were in the possession of the celebrated Cleopatra, who, on being sumptuously feasted by Mark Antony, derided him for the meanness of his entertainment; and on his demanding how she could go beyond him in such a matter, answered that she would spend upon him in one supper ten millions of sestertii. Antony, conceiving it impossible for her to make good her boast, laid a great wager with her about it. When the supper came, although it was such as to befit the condition of the hostess and guests, it presented no extraordinary appearance; so that Antony jeered the queen on the subject, asking by way of mockery a sight of the bill of fare; whereupon she affirmed, that what had as yet been brought to table was not to be reckoned in the count, but that even her own part of the supper should cost sixty millions. She then ordered the second service to be brought in. The servants placed before her a cruet of vinegar, and she put into it one of the pearls which were appended to her ears. When it was dissolved, she took up the vessel, and drank its contents; on which Lucius Plancus declared that she had gained the wager. Afterwards, when Cleopatra was taken prisoner and deprived of her royal estate, the other pearl was cut into two, and affixed to the ears of the statue of Venus in the Pantheon at Rome.
The tenth book speaks of birds, beginning with the larger species, and concluding with remarks on generation, the food of animals, and other circumstances of a general nature. He believes that the spinal marrow of a man, as many persons have asserted, may turn into a snake; that salamanders, eels, and oysters, are neither male nor female; and that young vipers make their way through the sides of their mother. His History of Birds is extremely meagre and incorrect; but many amusing particulars are related by him, of which we select two examples.
In the days of Tiberius Cæsar, a young raven that had been hatched in a nest upon the temple of Castor and Pollux took her first flight into a shoemaker's shop just opposite. The master of the booth was well pleased to receive the guest, especially as it had come from so sacred a place, and took great care of it. In a short time the winged visitor began to speak, and every morning flew to the top of the rostra, where, turning to the open forum, he saluted the emperor, and after him Germanicus and Drusus, the young princes, each by his name, and after them the people that passed by. This he continued to do for many years, till another shoemaker, either envying his neighbour the possession of so rare a prize, or enraged at the bird for muting on his shoes, killed him. At this rash proceeding, the people were so indignant that they drove the ungenerous mechanic out of the street, and afterwards murdered him. The body of the raven was solemnly interred in a field two miles from the city, to which it was carried by two blacks, with musicians playing before, and a great crowd following. In such esteem, says Pliny, did the people of Rome hold this wit and aptness to learn in a bird, that they thought it a sufficient cause for ordering a sumptuous funeral, and even for putting a man to death, in that very city where many brave and noble persons have died without having their obsequies solemnized, and which afforded not one individual to revenge the undeserved death of the renowned Scipio Æmilianus, after he had conquered both Carthage and Numantia.
Cocks, he says, which are our sentinels by night, and destined by nature to rouse us from sleep and call us up to our work, have also, like the peacock, a sense of glory, and a love of approbation. They are astronomers too, and know the course of the stars; they divide the day by their crowing which is performed at the end of every three hours; they go to roost when the sun sets, and before he rises again they warn us of the approach of day by clapping their wings and crowing. They are rulers in their own community, whether consisting of other males or females. Their sovereignty is obtained by combat, as if they knew that they had weapons on their heels for the purpose, and the battle is often protracted until one is killed. The conqueror proclaims his victory by crowing, while the vanquished hides his head in silence, although it goes hard with him to be beaten. Not only are these fighting cocks thus high-minded, but even the common dunghill kind are equally proud, marching in a stately manner, their neck erect, with a comb on the head like the crest of a soldier's helmet. There is no other bird that so often looks aloft to the sun and sky, and as he moves he carries his tail in an arched form. Even the lion, the most courageous of animals, stands in awe of the cock. Some of these birds are made for nothing else than fighting, and are never satisfied unless when engaged in a quarrel; and to them the emperors and nobles of Rome do not disdain to give honour. The best breeds are from Rhodes, Tenagra, Melos, and Chalcis. These birds rule our rulers, nor is there a great man in Rome that dare open or shut the door of his house before he knows their good pleasure; even the sovereign, in all the majesty of the empire, with the insignia of office, neither sets forward nor recedes without their direction. They give orders to armies to advance to battle, or command them to keep within the camp. They supplied the signal and foretold the issue of all the famous fields, in which the Romans achieved their victories in all parts of the world. In a word, they command the greatest commanders of all nations, and, small as they are, prove as acceptable to the gods in sacrifice as the largest and fattest oxen. Their crowing out of time is portentous, and it is well known that, by once crowing all night long, they foretold to the Bœotians the noble victory which that people achieved over the Lacedemonians, for this result was expected, as these birds never crow when beaten. When converted into capons, they cease to crow; but in this state they become sooner fat. At Pergamus there is a solemn cock-fight every year. It is recorded that, within the territory of Ariminum, in the year when Marcus Lepidus and Quintus Catulus were consuls, a dunghill-cock, belonging to one Galerius, spoke; but, as far as Pliny could learn, the like never happened again.