Folio 74r - Of fish, continued.
lay eggs, like the speckled, large fish called trout, and leave them in the water to hatch. Water, therefore, gives the life and form and, a gentle mother to living things, fulfils this obligation as if she were obeying an immutable law. Other fish produce living offspring from their bodies, like the great whales, dolphins, seals and others of this sort; when they have produced their young and have, perhaps, a premonition that these are ever threatened by some kind of trap or in danger, in order to protect them or to calm with a mother's love the fear of those of tender years, they are said to open their mouths and hold their young, without harming them, in their teeth, and also to take them back into their body, concealed in their womb. What human affection can equal the sense of duty that we find in fish? For us, kisses suffice. For them, it is not enough to open the innermost parts of their body, to swallow their young then bring them back whole, to give their offspring life once again with their own warmth, to breathe into their young their own breath, and to live as two in one body until either they have carried them off to safety or by interposing their own bodies, have protected their young from the threatened danger. Which fisherman seeing this, even if he were still able to catch the fish, would not give in to such a display of duty? Who would not marvel and stand amazed that nature has preserved in fish a quality that is not found in men? Many men, acting out of mistrust, driven by malevolence and hatred, have killed their children; we have read of others, women, who have eaten their own children in times of famine. The mother thus becomes a tomb for her infants. To the spawn of the fish, however, the mother's womb is like a wall; she preserves her harmless brood by turning her innermost parts into a sort of fortress. The different species of fish, therefore, have different habits. Some lay eggs, others produce living, full-formed offspring. Those who lay eggs do not weave nests like birds; they do not go through the bother of a long process of hatching their young; and they do not have the trouble of feeding them. The egg has been laid, and the water has reared it on what is, in effect, her own natural bosom, like a gentle nurse, incubating the egg quickly so that it becomes a living thing. For, given life by the constant touch of its mother, the water, the egg disintegrates and the fish emerges. How pure and unspoiled this process of generation is, involving, as it does, no creature outside that particular species.
Folio 74r - Of fish, continued. | The Aberdeen Bestiary | The University of Aberdeen