Read The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci Online
Authors: Leonardo Da Vinci
Tags: #History, #General, #Leonardo, #da Vinci, #1452-1519 -- Notebooks, #sketchbooks, #Etc.
This [bird] gives sight to its blind young ones, with the juice of
the celandine.
This, when chasing rats first eats of rue.
This beast cures its sickness by eating of ivy.
This creature when it wants to renew itself casts its old skin,
beginning with the head, and changing in one day and one night.
This beast after its bowels have fallen out will still fight with
the dogs and hunters.
1262.
This creature always takes the colour of the thing on which it is
resting, whence it is often devoured together with the leaves on
which the elephant feeds.
When it has killed the Chameleon it takes laurel as a purge.
1263.
Moderation checks all the vices. The ermine will die rather than
besmirch itself.
The cock does not crow till it has thrice flapped its wings; the
parrot in moving among boughs never puts its feet excepting where it
has first put its beak. Vows are not made till Hope is dead.
Motion tends towards the centre of gravity.
1264.
The falcon never seizes any but large birds and will sooner die than
eat [tainted] meat of bad savour.
Fables on animals (1265-1270).
1265.
An oyster being turned out together with other fish in the house of
a fisherman near the sea, he entreated a rat to take him to the sea.
The rat purposing to eat him bid him open; but as he bit him the
oyster squeezed his head and closed; and the cat came and killed
him.
1266.
The thrushes rejoiced greatly at seeing a man take the owl and
deprive her of liberty, tying her feet with strong bonds. But this
owl was afterwards by means of bird-lime the cause of the thrushes
losing not only their liberty, but their life. This is said for
those countries which rejoice in seeing their governors lose their
liberty, when by that means they themselves lose all succour, and
remain in bondage in the power of their enemies, losing their
liberty and often their life.
1267.
A dog, lying asleep on the fur of a sheep, one of his fleas,
perceiving the odour of the greasy wool, judged that this must be a
land of better living, and also more secure from the teeth and nails
of the dog than where he fed on the dog; and without farther
reflection he left the dog and went into the thick wool. There he
began with great labour to try to pass among the roots of the hairs;
but after much sweating had to give up the task as vain, because
these hairs were so close that they almost touched each other, and
there was no space where fleas could taste the skin. Hence, after
much labour and fatigue, he began to wish to return to his dog, who
however had already departed; so he was constrained after long
repentance and bitter tears, to die of hunger.
1268.
The vain and wandering butterfly, not content with being able to fly
at its ease through the air, overcome by the tempting flame of the
candle, decided to fly into it; but its sportive impulse was the
cause of a sudden fall, for its delicate wings were burnt in the
flame. And the hapless butterfly having dropped, all scorched, at
the foot of the candlestick, after much lamentation and repentance,
dried the tears from its swimming eyes, and raising its face
exclaimed: O false light! how many must thou have miserably deceived
in the past, like me; or if I must indeed see light so near, ought I
not to have known the sun from the false glare of dirty tallow?
The monkey, finding a nest of small birds, went up to it greatly
delighted. But they, being already fledged, he could only succeed in
taking the smallest; greatly delighted he took it in his hand and
went to his abode; and having begun to look at the little bird he
took to kissing it, and from excess of love he kissed it so much and
turned it about and squeezed it till he killed it. This is said for
those who by not punishing their children let them come to mischief.
1269.
A rat was besieged in his little dwelling by a weasel, which with
unwearied vigilance awaited his surrender, while watching his
imminent peril through a little hole. Meanwhile the cat came by and
suddenly seized the weasel and forthwith devoured it. Then the rat
offered up a sacrifice to Jove of some of his store of nuts, humbly
thanking His providence, and came out of his hole to enjoy his
lately lost liberty. But he was instantly deprived of it, together
with his life, by the cruel claws and teeth of the lurking cat.
1270.
The ant found a grain of millet. The seed feeling itself taken
prisoner cried out to her: "If you will do me the kindness to allow
me accomplish my function of reproduction, I will give you a hundred
such as I am." And so it was.
A Spider found a bunch of grapes which for its sweetness was much
resorted to by bees and divers kinds of flies. It seemed to her that
she had found a most convenient spot to spread her snare, and having
settled herself on it with her delicate web, and entered into her
new habitation, there, every day placing herself in the openings
made by the spaces between the grapes, she fell like a thief on the
wretched creatures which were not aware of her. But, after a few
days had passed, the vintager came, and cut away the bunch of grapes
and put it with others, with which it was trodden; and thus the
grapes were a snare and pitfall both for the treacherous spider and
the betrayed flies.
An ass having gone to sleep on the ice over a deep lake, his heat
dissolved the ice and the ass awoke under water to his great grief,
and was forthwith drowned.
A falcon, unable to endure with patience the disappearance of a
duck, which, flying before him had plunged under water, wished to
follow it under water, and having soaked his feathers had to remain
in the water while the duck rising to the air mocked at the falcon
as he drowned.
The spider wishing to take flies in her treacherous net, was cruelly
killed in it by the hornet.
An eagle wanting to mock at the owl was caught by the wings in
bird-lime and was taken and killed by a man.
Fables on lifeless objects (1271—1274).
1271.
The water finding that its element was the lordly ocean, was seized
with a desire to rise above the air, and being encouraged by the
element of fire and rising as a very subtle vapour, it seemed as
though it were really as thin as air. But having risen very high, it
reached the air that was still more rare and cold, where the fire
forsook it, and the minute particles, being brought together, united
and became heavy; whence its haughtiness deserting it, it betook
itself to flight and it fell from the sky, and was drunk up by the
dry earth, where, being imprisoned for a long time, it did penance
for its sin.
1272.
The razor having one day come forth from the handle which serves as
its sheath and having placed himself in the sun, saw the sun
reflected in his body, which filled him with great pride. And
turning it over in his thoughts he began to say to himself: "And
shall I return again to that shop from which I have just come?
Certainly not; such splendid beauty shall not, please God, be turned
to such base uses. What folly it would be that could lead me to
shave the lathered beards of rustic peasants and perform such menial
service! Is this body destined for such work? Certainly not. I will
hide myself in some retired spot and there pass my life in tranquil
repose." And having thus remained hidden for some months, one day he
came out into the air, and issuing from his sheath, saw himself
turned to the similitude of a rusty saw while his surface no longer
reflected the resplendent sun. With useless repentance he vainly
deplored the irreparable mischief saying to himself: "Oh! how far
better was it to employ at the barbers my lost edge of such
exquisite keenness! Where is that lustrous surface? It has been
consumed by this vexatious and unsightly rust."
The same thing happens to those minds which instead of exercise give
themselves up to sloth. They are like the razor here spoken of, and
lose the keenness of their edge, while the rust of ignorance spoils
their form.
A stone of some size recently uncovered by the water lay on a
certain spot somewhat raised, and just where a delightful grove
ended by a stony road; here it was surrounded by plants decorated by
various flowers of divers colours. And as it saw the great quantity
of stones collected together in the roadway below, it began to wish
it could let itself fall down there, saying to itself: "What have I
to do here with these plants? I want to live in the company of
those, my sisters." And letting itself fall, its rapid course ended
among these longed for companions. When it had been there sometime
it began to find itself constantly toiling under the wheels of the
carts the iron-shoed feet of horses and of travellers. This one
rolled it over, that one trod upon it; sometimes it lifted itself a
little and then it was covered with mud or the dung of some animal,
and it was in vain that it looked at the spot whence it had come as
a place of solitude and tranquil place.
Thus it happens to those who choose to leave a life of solitary
comtemplation, and come to live in cities among people full of
infinite evil.
1273.
Some flames had already lasted in the furnace of a glass-blower,
when they saw a candle approaching in a beautiful and glittering
candlestick. With ardent longing they strove to reach it; and one of
them, quitting its natural course, writhed up to an unburnt brand on
which it fed and passed at the opposite end out by a narrow chink to
the candle which was near. It flung itself upon it, and with fierce
jealousy and greediness it devoured it, having reduced it almost to
death, and, wishing to procure the prolongation of its life, it
tried to return to the furnace whence it had come. But in vain, for
it was compelled to die, the wood perishing together with the
candle, being at last converted, with lamentation and repentance,
into foul smoke, while leaving all its sisters in brilliant and
enduring life and beauty.
1274.
A small patch of snow finding itself clinging to the top of a rock
which was lying on the topmost height of a very high mountain and
being left to its own imaginings, it began to reflect in this way,
saying to itself: "Now, shall not I be thought vain and proud for
having placed myself—such a small patch of snow—in so lofty a
spot, and for allowing that so large a quantity of snow as I have
seen here around me, should take a place lower than mine? Certainly
my small dimensions by no means merit this elevation. How easily may
I, in proof of my insignificance, experience the same fate as that
which the sun brought about yesterday to my companions, who were
all, in a few hours, destroyed by the sun. And this happened from
their having placed themselves higher than became them. I will flee
from the wrath of the sun, and humble myself and find a place
befitting my small importance." Thus, flinging itself down, it began
to descend, hurrying from its high home on to the other snow; but
the more it sought a low place the more its bulk increased, so that
when at last its course was ended on a hill, it found itself no less
in size than the hill which supported it; and it was the last of the
snow which was destroyed that summer by the sun. This is said for
those who, humbling themselves, become exalted.
Fables on plants (1275-1279).
1275.
The cedar, being desirous of producing a fine and noble fruit at its
summit, set to work to form it with all the strength of its sap. But
this fruit, when grown, was the cause of the tall and upright
tree-top being bent over.
The peach, being envious of the vast quantity of fruit which she saw
borne on the nut-tree, her neighbour, determined to do the same, and
loaded herself with her own in such a way that the weight of the
fruit pulled her up by the roots and broke her down to the ground.
The nut-tree stood always by a road side displaying the wealth of
its fruit to the passers by, and every one cast stones at it.
The fig-tree, having no fruit, no one looked at it; then, wishing to
produce fruits that it might be praised by men, it was bent and
broken down by them.
The fig-tree, standing by the side of the elm and seeing that its
boughs were bare of fruit, yet that it had the audacity to keep the
Sun from its own unripe figs with its branches, said to it: "Oh elm!
art thou not ashamed to stand in front of me. But wait till my
offspring are fully grown and you will see where you are!" But when
her offspring were mature, a troop of soldiers coming by fell upon
the fig-tree and her figs were all torn off her, and her boughs cut
away and broken. Then, when she was thus maimed in all her limbs,
the elm asked her, saying: "O fig-tree! which was best, to be
without offspring, or to be brought by them into so miserable a
plight!"
1276.
The plant complains of the old and dry stick which stands by its
side and of the dry stakes that surround it.
One keeps it upright, the other keeps it from low company.
1277.
A nut, having been carried by a crow to the top of a tall campanile
and released by falling into a chink from the mortal grip of its
beak, it prayed the wall by the grace bestowed on it by God in
allowing it to be so high and thick, and to own such fine bells and
of so noble a tone, that it would succour it, and that, as it had
not been able to fall under the verdurous boughs of its venerable
father and lie in the fat earth covered up by his fallen leaves it
would not abandon it; because, finding itself in the beak of the
cruel crow, it had there made a vow that if it escaped from her it
would end its life in a little hole. At these words the wall, moved
to compassion, was content to shelter it in the spot where it had
fallen; and after a short time the nut began to split open and put
forth roots between the rifts of the stones and push them apart, and
to throw out shoots from its hollow shell; and, to be brief, these
rose above the building and the twisted roots, growing thicker,
began to thrust the walls apart, and tear out the ancient stones
from their old places. Then the wall too late and in vain bewailed
the cause of its destruction and in a short time, it wrought the
ruin of a great part of it.