PLACES IN WHICH CERTAIN BIRDS ARE NEVER FOUND

Latine · Mayhoff 1906

Sed in secessu avium et noctuae paucis diebus latere traduntur, quarum genus in Creta insula non esse, etiam, si qua invecta sit, emori. nam haec quoque mira naturae differentia: alia aliis locis negat, tamquam genera frugum fruticumve, sic et animalium; non nasci tralaticium, invecta emori mirum. quod illud est unius generis saluti adversum, quaeve ista naturae invidia? aut qui terrarum dicti avibus termini? Rhodos aquilam non habet. Transpadana Italia iuxta Alpes Larium lacum appellat amoenum arbusto agro, ad quem ciconiae non permeant, sicuti nec octavum citra lapidem ab eo inmensa alioqui finitimo Insubrum tractu examina graculorum monedularum, cui soli avi furacitas argenti aurique praecipue mira est. picus Martius in Tarentino agro negatur esse. nuper et adhuc tamen rara ab Appennino ad urbem versus cerni coepere picarum genera, quae longa insignes cauda variae appellantur; proprium iis calvescere omnibus annis, cum serantur rapa. perdices non transvolant Boeotiae fines in Attica, nec ulla avis in Ponto insula, qua sepultus est Achilles, sacratam ei aedem. in Fidenate agro iuxta urbem ciconiae nec pullos nec nidum faciunt. at in agrum Volaterranum palumbium vis e mari quotannis advolat. Romae in aedem Herculis in foro Boario nec muscae nec canes intrant. multa praeterea similia, quae prudens subinde omitto in singulis generibus, fastidio parcens, quippe cum Theophrastus tradat invecticias esse in Asia etiam columbas et pavones et cervos et in Cyrenaica vocales ranas.

Alia admiratio circa oscines. fere mutant colorem vocemque tempore anni ac repente fiunt aliae, quod in grandiore alitum genere grues tantum; hae enim senectute nigrescunt. merula ex nigra rufescit, canit aestate, hieme balbutit, circa solstitium muta. rostrum quoque anniculis in ebur transfiguratur, dumtaxat maribus. turdis colos aestate circa cervicem varius, hieme concoloribus.

Lusciniis diebus ac noctibus continuis XV garrulus sine intermissu cantus densante se frondium germine, non in novissimis digna miratu ave. primum tanta vox tam parvo in corpusculo, tam pertinax spiritus; deinde in una perfecta musica scientia: modulatus editur sonus et nunc continuo spiritu trahitur in longum, nunc variatur inflexo, nunc distinguitur conciso, copulatur intorto, promittitur revocato, infuscatur ex inopinato, interdum et secum ipse murmurat, plenus, gravis, acutus, creber, extentus, ubi visum est, vibrans, summus, medius, imus. breviterque omnia tam parvulis in faucibus, quae tot exquisitis tibiarum tormentis ars hominum excogitavit, non ut sit dubium hanc suavitatem praemonstratam efficaci auspicio, cum in ore Stesichori cecinit infantis. ac ne quis dubitet artis esse, plures singulis sunt cantus, nec iidem omnibus, sed sui cuique. certant inter se, palamque animosa contentio est. victa morte finit saepe vitam spiritu prius deficiente quam cantu. meditantur aliae iuveniores versusque quos imitentur accipiunt. audit discipula intentione magna et reddit, vicibusque reticent: intellegitur emendatae correptio et in docente quaedam reprehensio. ergo servorum illis pretia sunt, et quidem ampliora quam quibus olim armigeri parabantur. scio HSVI candidam alioqui, quod est prope invisitatum, venisse, quae Agrippinae Claudi principis coniugi dono daretur. visum iam saepe iussas canere coepisse et cum symphonia alternasse, sicut homines repertos qui sonum earum addita in transversas harundines aqua foramen inspirantes linguaeve parva aliqua opposita mora indiscreta redderent similitudine. sed hae tantae tamque artifices argutiae a XV diebus paulatim desinunt, nec ut fatigatas possis dicere aut satiatas. mox aestu aucto in totum alia vox fit, nec modulata aut varia; mutatur et color. postremo hieme ipsa non cernitur. linguis earum tenuitas illa prima non est quae ceteris avibus. pariunt vere primo, cum plurimum, sena ova.

Alia ratio ficedulis, nam formam simul coloremque mutant. hoc nomen autumno habent, postea melancoryphi vocantur. sic et erithacus hieme, idem phoenicurus aestate. mutat et upupa, ut tradit Aeschylus poeta, obscena alias pastu avis, crista visenda plicatili, contrahens eam subrigensque per longitudinem capitis.

Oenanthe quidem etiam statos latebrae dies habet. exoriente sirio occultata ab occasu eiusdem prodit, quod miremur, ipsis diebus utrumque. chlorion quoque, qui totus est luteus, hieme non visus, circa solstitia procedit.

English · Bostock & Riley 1855–57

With reference to the departure of birds, the owlet, too, is said to lie concealed for a few days. No birds of this last kind are to be found in the island of Crete, and if any are imported thither, they immediately die. Indeed, this is a remarkable distinction made by Nature; for she denies to certain places, as it were, certain kinds of fruits and shrubs, and of animals as well; it is singular that when introduced into these localities they will be no longer productive, but die immediately they are thus transplanted. What can it be that is thus fatal to the increase of one particular species, or whence this envy manifested against them by Nature? What, too, are the limits that have been marked out for the birds on the face of the earth?

Rhodes possesses no eagles. In Italy beyond the Padus there is, near the Alps, a lake known by the name of Larius beautifully situate amid a country covered with shrubs; and yet this lake is never visited by storks, nor, indeed, are they ever known to come within eight miles of it; while, on the other hand, in the neighbouring territory of the Insubres there are immense flocks of magpies and jackdaws, the only bird that is guilty of stealing gold and silver, a very singular propensity.

It is said that in the territory of Tarentum, the woodpecker of Mars is never found. It is only lately too, and that but very rarely, that various kinds of pies have begun to be seen in the districts that lie between the Apennines and the City; birds which are known by the name of “variæ,” and are remarkable for the length of the tail. It is a peculiarity of this bird, that it becomes bald every year at the time of sowing rape. The partridge does not fly beyond the frontiers of Bœotia, into Attica; nor does any bird, in the island in the Euxine in which Achilles was buried, enter the temple there consecrated to him. In the territory of Fidenæ, in the vicinity of the City, the storks have no young nor do they build nests: but vast numbers of ringdoves arrive from beyond sea every year in the district of Volaterræ. At Rome, neither flies nor dogs ever enter the temple of Hercules in the Cattle Market. There are numerous other instances of a similar nature in reference to all kinds of animals, which from time to time I feel myself prompted by prudent considerations to omit, lest I should only weary the reader. Theophrastus, for example, relates that even pigeons, as well as peacocks and ravens, have been introduced from other parts into Asia, as also croaking frogs into Cyrenaica.

There is another remarkable fact too, relative to the birds which give omens by their note; they generally change their colour and voice at a certain season of the year, and suddenly become quite altered in appearance; a thing that, among the larger birds, happens with the crane only, which grows black in its old age. From black, the blackbird changes to a reddish colour, sings in summer, chatters in winter, and about the summer solstice loses its voice; when a year old, the beak also assumes the appearance of ivory; this, however, is the case only with the male. In the summer, the thrush is mottled about the neck, but in the winter it becomes of one uniform colour all over.

The song of the nightingale is to be heard, without intermission, for fifteen days and nights, continuously, when the foliage is thickening, as it bursts from the bud; a bird which deserves our admiration in no slight degree. First of all, what a powerful voice in so small a body! its note, how long, and how well sustained! And then, too, it is the only bird the notes of which are modulated in accordance with the strict rules of musical science. At one moment, as it sustains its breath, it will prolong its note, and then at another, will vary it with different inflexions; then, again, it will break into distinct chirrups, or pour forth an endless series of roulades. Then it will warble to itself, while taking breath, or else disguise its voice in an instant; while sometimes, again, it will twitter to itself, now with a full note, now with a grave, now again sharp, now with a broken note, and now with a prolonged one. Sometimes, again, when it thinks fit, it will break out into quavers, and will run through, in succession, alto, tenor, and bass: in a word, in so tiny a throat is to be found all the melody that the ingenuity of man has ever discovered through the medium of the invention of the most exquisite flute: so much so, that there can be no doubt it was an infallible presage of his future sweetness as a poet, when one of these creatures perched and sang on the infant lips of the poet Stesichorus.

That there may remain no doubt that there is a certain degree of art in its performances, we may here remark that every bird has a number of notes peculiar to itself; for they do not, all of them, have the same, but each, certain melodies of its own. They vie with one another, and the spirit with which they contend is evident to all. The one that is vanquished, often dies in the contest, and will rather yield its life than its song. The younger birds are listening in the meantime, and receive the lesson in song from which they are to profit. The learner hearkens with the greatest attention, and repeats what it has heard, and then they are silent by turns; this is understood to be the correction of an error on the part of the scholar, and a sort of reproof, as it were, on the part of the teacher. Hence it is that nightingales fetch as high a price as slaves, and, indeed, sometimes more than used formerly to be paid for a man in a suit of armour.

I know that on one occasion six thousand sesterces were paid for a nightingale, a white one it is true, a thing that is hardly ever to be seen, to be made a present of to Agrippina, the wife of the Emperor Claudius. A nightingale has been often seen that will sing at command, and take alternate parts with the music that accompanies it; men, too, have been found who could imitate its note with such exactness, that it would be impossible to tell the difference, by merely putting water in a reed held crosswise, and then blowing into it, a languette being first inserted, for the purpose of breaking the sound and rendering it more shrill. But these modulations, so clever and so artistic, begin gradually to cease at the end of the fifteen days; not that you can say, however, that the bird is either fatigued or tired of singing; but, as the heat increases, its voice becomes altogether changed, and possesses no longer either modulation or variety of note. Its colour, too, becomes changed, and at last, throughout the winter, it totally disappears. The tongue of the nightingale is not pointed at the tip, as in other birds. It lays at the beginning of the spring, six eggs at the most.

The change is different that takes place in the ficedula, for this bird changes its shape as well as its colour. “Ficedula” is the name by which it is called in autumn, but not after that period; for then it is called “melancoryphus.” In the same manner, too, the erithacus of the winter is the “phœnicurus” of the summer. The hoopoe also, according to the poet Æschylus, changes its form; it is a bird that feeds upon filth of all kinds, and is remarkable for its twisted top-knot, which it can contract or elevate at pleasure along the top of the head.

The œnanthe, too, is a bird that has stated days for its retreat. At the rising of Sirius it conceals itself, and at the setting of that star comes forth from its retreat: and this it does, a most singular thing, exactly upon both those days. The chlorion, also, the body of which is yellow all over, is not seen in the winter, but comes out about the summer solstice.