"I cannot consent to the opinion of _Ælianus_, that affirmeth the Serpents to follow the breath of a Hart like some philter, or amorous cup: for, seeing that all authors hold a hostility in natures betwixt them, it is not probable that the Serpent loveth the breath of a beast unto whose whole body he is an enemy with a perpetual antipathy. And if any reply that the warm breath of an Hart is acceptable to the cold Serpent, and that therefore she followeth it as a dog creepeth to the fire, or as other beasts to the beams of the sun, I will not greatly gainsay it, seeing by that means it is most clear that the breath doth not by any secret force or vertue extract and draw her out of the den, but rather the concomitant quality of heat, which is not from the secret fire in the bones of the Hart's throat (as _Pliny_ hath taught), but rather from her ordinary expiration, inspiration, and respiration. For it cannot be, that seeing all the parts of a Serpent are opposite to a Hart, that there should be any love to that which killeth her. "For my opinion, I think that the manner of the Hart's drawing the Serpent out of her den is not, as _Ælianus_ and _Pliny_ affirmeth, by sending into the cave a warm breath, which burneth and scorcheth the beast out of her den, but rather, when the Hart hath found the Serpent's nest, she draweth the air by secret and violent attraction out from the Serpent, who, to save her life, followeth the air out of her den. As where a vessel is broached or wrecked, the wine followeth the flying air; and as a cupping-glass draweth blood out of a scarified place of the body, so the Serpent is drawn unwillingly to follow her destroyer, and not willingly, as _Ælianus_ affirmeth. The Serpent being thus drawn forth, addeth greater force to her poyson, whereupon the proverbial admonition did arise, 'Beware thou meet not with a Serpent drawn out of her hole by the breath of a Hart, for at that time, by reason of her wrath, her poyson is more vehement.' After the self-same manner do the Sea-rams draw the Sea-calves hid in the subterranean rocks, for by smelling they prevent the air that should come into them for refrigeration." In consequence of this antipathy, travellers were accustomed to wear dresses made of deer-skin, because no serpent would dare to bite any one who wore such armour. The timidity of the Deer was attributed by these strange old authors to the great size of its heart, in which they thought was a bone shaped like a cross.