cients, and from
foreign sources. The ancients had a curious notion relative to the plant
Basil (_Oscimum basilicum_), viz., "That there is a property in Basil to
propagate scorpions, and that the smell thereof they are bred in the brains
of men." Others deny this wonderful property, and make Basil a simple
antidote.
"According unto Oribasius, physician unto Julian, the Africans, men
best experienced in poisons, affirm, whosoever hath eaten Basil,
although he be stung with a scorpion, shall feel no pain thereby, which
is a very different effect, and rather antidotally destroying than
seminally promoting its production."--Sir Thomas Browne, _Vulgar
Errors._
An old writer gives the following anecdote in point:
"Francis Marcio, an eminent statesman of Genoa, having sent an
ambassador from that republic to the Duke of Milan, when he could
neither procure an audience of leave from that prince, nor yet prevail
with him to ratify his promises made to the Genoese, taking a fit
opportunity, presented a handful of the herb Basil to the duke. The
duke, somewhat surprised, asked what that meant? 'Sir,' replied the
ambassador, 'this herb is of that nature, that if you handle it gently
without squeezing, it will emit a pleasant and grateful scent; but if
you squeeze and gripe it, 'twill not only lose its colour, but it _will
become productive of scorpions_ in a little time."--_The Entertainer_:
London, 1717, p. 23.
Pliny tells us that a decoction from the leaves of the ash tree, given as a
drink, is such a remedy that "nothing so soveraigne can be found against
the poison of serpents;" and farther:
"That a _serpent dare not come neare the shaddow of that tree_. The
serpent will chuse rather to goe into the fire than to flie from it to
the leaves of the ash. A wonderful goodnesse of Dame Nature, that the
ash doth bloome and flourish alwaies before that serpents come abroad,
and never sheddeth leaves, but continueth green untill they be retired
into their holes, and hidden within the ground."
The ancient opinion respecting the rooted antipathy between the ash and the
serpent is not to be explained merely by the fact in natural history of its
being an antidote, but it has a deeply mythical meaning. See, in the _Prose
Edda_, the account of the ash Yggdrasill, and the serpents gnawing its
roots. Loskiel corroborates Pliny as to the ash
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