no bigger than a rat," for "God hath made nothing without
reason and remedy," the pious Mediaeval writer concludes.
Why the weasel? There is nothing to show; nor was this little creature,
who did such good service, honoured by our forefathers as having a
favourable meaning.
It is symbolical of dissimulation and depravity, and taken to typify the
degrading life of the mountebank. It may also be remembered that this
carnivorous beast, which was supposed to carry its young in the mouth
and give birth to them through the ear, is numbered among the unclean
animals in the Bible.
"This zoological homoeopathy is rather inconsistent," observed Durtal,
"unless the similar interpretation given to these two creatures, hating
each other, may signify that the Devil devours himself."
Next we have the phoenix, "a bird of very fine plumage resembling the
peacock; it is very solitary, and feeds on the seeds of the ash;" its
colour, moreover, is of purple overshot with gold; and because it is
said to rise again from its ashes, it is always typical of the
Resurrection of Christ.
The unicorn was one of the most amazing creatures in mystical natural
history.
"It is a very cruel beast, with a great and thick body after the fashion
of a horse; it hath for a weapon a great horn, half a fathom in length,
so sharp and so hard that there is nothing it cannot pierce.... When men
need to take it they bring a virgin maid to the place where they know
that it has its abode. When the unicorn sees her and knows that she is a
virgin, it lieth down to sleep in her lap, doing her no harm; then come
the hunters and kill it.... Likewise, if she be not a pure maid the
unicorn will not sleep, but killeth the damsel who is not pure."
Whence we conclude that the unicorn is one of the emblems of chastity,
as also is another very strange beast of which Saint Isidor speaks: the
porphyrion.
This has one foot like that of the partridge, and the other webbed like
that of a goose, its peculiarity consists in mourning over adultery, and
loving its master so faithfully that it dies of pity in his arms when it
learns that his wife has deceived him. So that this species was soon
extinct!
"There must be some more fabulous beasts to be included," murmured
Durtal, again turning over his papers.
He found the wyvern, a sort of Melusina, half woman and half serpent; a
very cruel beast, full of malice and devoid of pity, Saint Ambrose tells
us; the manicoris
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