No less remarkable was the serpent in love with the Aetolian woman. He came to her in the night, and getting under her garments to her very skin, embraced her naked body; and never either willingly or unwillingly did he do her any harm, but always about break of day departed; which the kindred of the woman observing to be the common custom of the animal, removed her a great way off. After that, the serpent came not again for three or four days together, being all the while, as it seemed, wandering about in search of her. But at length, having with much ado found her out, he did not approach her with that mildness as he was wont to do, but after a rougher manner; with his folds having first bound her hands to her body, with the end of his tail he lashed the calves of her legs; expressing thereby a gentle and loving anger, which had more in it of indulgent expostulation than punishment. I say nothing of a goose in Egypt in love with a boy, nor of the ram in love with Glauce who played on the harp; for the stories are in all people’s mouths. And besides, I am apt to think you are satiated with examples of this nature. 19. But as for starlings, magpies, and parrots, that learn to talk, and afford their teachers such a spirit of voice, so well tempered and so adapted for imitation, they seem to me to be patrons and advocates in behalf of other creatures, by their talent of learning what they are taught; and in some measure to teach us that those creatures also, as well as we, partake of vocal expression and articulate sound. From whence I conclude it a most ridiculous thing in them that would compare these creatures with a sort of mute animals, I mean the fish, that have not voice enough to howl or make a mournful noise. Whereas, in the natural and untaught notes of these creatures, what music, what a charming grace do we observe! To which the famous poets and choicest singers among men bear testimony, while they compare their sweetest odes and poems to the singing of swans and melody of nightingales. Now in regard there is more of reason in teaching than in learning, we are to believe Aristotle,[86] who assures us that terrestrial animals do that likewise, in regard that nightingales have been observed instructing their young ones to sing. Of which this may be a sufficient proof, that such nightingales are known to sing worse that are taken very young from the nest and deprived of the education of the old one. For they both learn and are taught from the old one, not for hire or to get reputation, but merely out of a delight in mixing their notes together, and because they have a greater love for that which is excellent and curious in the voice than for what is profitable. Concerning which I have a story to tell you, which I heard from several Greeks and Romans, who were eye-witnesses of the thing.