sive, some
call him "_il milordo_;" others, from the beauty of his colour, _"il
bello."_ When about to moult, his wonted vivacity changes to moroseness.
Like a mad dog, he will snap at every thing. Perhaps the loss of all his
beauty, which then takes place, may account for such peevishness. A
glaucomatous state of the eye always precedes by some days the moult,
which is accomplished by the skin cracking from the jaws, and afterwards
being reflected over the head and shoulders, till by degrees the snake
skins himself alive, leaving his old investment turned completely inside
out. As gross a feeder as an alderman, he more frequently recovers from a
surfeit, perhaps because, though a glutton, he will not touch wine.

Snakes are not so plentiful about Rome as farther south. Terracina in
particular swarms with them, as did its ancient predecessor _Amycle_,
which was once nearly depopulated by them. Their chief haunt hereabouts is
two miles beyond the Porta Salara, at a place called Serpentina, on the
opposite side of the Tiber, and nearly in front of the embouchure of the
Cremara. At last we come to the family viper box, which perhaps we "would
like to peep into with our gloves on?" "_Per Carita_, no," said we seizing
the naturalista's hand--"on no account--a bite would be no joke!" Cadet
laughed, observing that curiosity should not be baulked by timidity for a
trifle.--"A trifle! had she ever been bitten, then?" "_Come? sicuro ogni
anno._" It was of familiar occurrence: the part would swell, be stiff and
sore for a couple of days, but that was all. Fontana found that it
required four large and very angry vipers to kill a dog--of course it must
require as many to kill a man. As to the Egyptian Queen's death being
caused by a viper's bite, that question having been properly _ventilated_
(ventillata) by Professor Lancisci, might be considered as set at rest.
One viper could not kill one person, much less _three_; and we might
remember that Cleopatra's memorable asp is said to have bitten two maids
of honour, Neaera and Carmione, before it came to her turn, by which time
the poison must have been expended and the viper's tooth dry. "Two
things," added she, "I have noted about vipers; one regards the parturient
viper, and is to the effect that, a prisoner, she never survives her
confinement many days; long before the _quarante jours y compris
l'accouchement_[7] are over, she has ceased to be a mother and a viper.
The other regard