Hier aupres de Charenton
Un serpent morait Jean Freron,
Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva?
Ce read more

Hier aupres de Charenton
Un serpent morait Jean Freron,
Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva?
Ce fut le serpent qui creva.

While Fell was reposing himself in the hay,
A reptile concealed bit his leg as he lay;
read more

While Fell was reposing himself in the hay,
A reptile concealed bit his leg as he lay;
But, all venom himself, of the wound he made light,
And got well, while the scorpion died of the bite.

One man's strawberries are another man's hives.

One man's strawberries are another man's hives.

The man recover'd of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

The man recover'd of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

A deadly echidna once bit a Cappadocian; she herself died, having
tasted the Poison-flinging blood.
[Lat., Vipera Cappadocem read more

A deadly echidna once bit a Cappadocian; she herself died, having
tasted the Poison-flinging blood.
[Lat., Vipera Cappadocem nocitura mormordit; at illa Gustato
perit sanguine Cappadocis.]

Un gros serpent mordit Aurele.
Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva?
Qu' Aurele en mourut? Bagatelle!
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Un gros serpent mordit Aurele.
Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva?
Qu' Aurele en mourut? Bagatelle!
Ce fut le serpent qui creva.

To rankling poison hast thou turned in me the milk of human
kindness.
[Ger., In gahrend Drachengift hast read more

To rankling poison hast thou turned in me the milk of human
kindness.
[Ger., In gahrend Drachengift hast du
Die Milch der frommen Denkart mir verwandelt.]

All men carry about them that which is poyson to serpents: for
if it be true that is reported, read more

All men carry about them that which is poyson to serpents: for
if it be true that is reported, they will no better abide the
touching with man's spittle than scalding water cast upon them:
but if it happed to light within their chawes or mouth,
especially if it come from a man that is fasting, it is present
death.

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will read more

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
As violently as hasty powder fired
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.