Canes, et angues (Ornithologus κίρκους, et δράκοντας pro κυνέας, et δρακοντίας ut vulgaris lectio habet forte legendum, summo iudicio conijcit. Canes enim parum expavescunt Gallinae: Circos reliquosque Accipitres [235] maxime) cum de se agitur, solisque sibi metuunt, fugiunt, tum quidem. Si vero pullorum agmini ab his periculum verentur, vindicare illud ab iniuria nituntur, et supra quam vires patiuntur, saepe dimicant. Enim vero huiusmodi affectiones opinabimur istis animalibus ingenerasse naturam, de Gallinarum, Canum, Ursarum propagatione solicitam, non nobis hoc modo pudorem voluisse incutere? Nimirum reputantes ista naturam sequentibus exemplorum loco esse, duris autem suam exprob<r>are inhumanitatem, propter quos sola hominis incusatur natura, quod amorem gratuitum non ferat, neque nisi utilitatis causa diligere norit.

When they are dealing with themselves and they fear only for themselves, only then they avoid dogs and snakes (very rightly the Ornithologist thinks that we must read kírkous – hawks - and drákontas - dragons, snakes - instead of kynéas – dogs - and drakontías - little snakes - as the common reading reports. For hens not much fear dogs: to the highest degree the falconiforms of the genus Circus and other hawks). But if they fear that a danger can follow from these enemies for their crowd of chicks, they struggle in avenging it for the offence, and often they fight beyond their own endurance. But if we will think that nature solicitous for the propagation of hens, dogs, and bears, infused in these animals such feelings, did she not wish by chance to strike shame into us in this way? It is no wonder that when we think over these facts which are examples for those following nature, but reproving unfeeling men for their meanness, because of whom only human nature is blamed, for the latter does not bear a love without reward nor will learn to love except for sake of personal gain.

Haud minor etiam profecto Galli erga totam Gallinaceam familiam amor est, ipseque nobis veri, optimique patrisfamilias exemplar est. Is enim non vigilem tantum sese suorum in primis praebet custodem, et mane, dum tempus est, ad quotidianum invitat laborem, sed ipse primus exilit non tam voce, quam reapse quid faciendum sit ostendens, ipse omnia verrit, omnia explorat, omnia dispicit, et simulatque aliquid escae nactus est, Gallinas, et pullos ad pascendum convocat, interim ceu pater quidam, et symposiarchus excelsus adstat, et ad epulandum invitat, hoc unum semper curae habens, ut suis sit, quod edant. Interea ipse disquirit, ecquid in proximo reperiat, quo reperto, rursus suam familiam citat alta voce. Accurrunt ilico. Ille sublimen se gerens, et undique circumspiciens, ecquid hostile usquam appareat, totam cohortem circumit, et obiter granum aliquando unum sibi sumit, non citra invitationem, ut se sui sequantur.

Undoubtedly no lesser is the love of the rooster toward the entire gallinaceous family, and he himself is for us an example of a true and best head of family. For he not only shows himself as a watchful guardian firstly of his family members, and in the morning, at the proper time, invites us to our daily labor, but he first sallies forth not so much by voice, as actually showing what must be done, and he himself sweeps everything, explores everything, looks into everything, and as soon as he came across some food, he calls both hens and chicks together to eat, while he stands present like a landlord and a perfect chief of a banquet, inviting them to feast, paying always attention to only a thing, that his family members should have food available. Meanwhile he investigates if he is able to find something nearby, and when he found it, he calls his family again in a loud voice. They run at once. He, stretching himself up and looking around anywhere in case somewhere is appearing something which could be regarded as an enemy, scours the entire barnyard, and now and again incidentally plucks up a grain for himself not without inviting his folks to follow him.

Unde apud Ausonium[1] proverbialiter legitur, Gallinaceus {Eucleonis} <Euclionis>, in eum qui omnia solet diligentissime perscrutari, et investigare, ne pulvisculo quidem relicto, donec id invenerit, quod exquisita cura conquisiverat. Gallus vero tum ideo quoque amorem, benivolentiamque suam illam manifestat, dum se doloris, quo coniuges suas affici credit, consortem cantu longe alio, quam cucu<r>ritu, sed Gallinarum cantui simillimo {attestatnr} <attestatur>. Meminit eius Oppianus[2] his verbis: Galli partus Gallinarum levare, et doloris participatione solari videntur, dum placida, et exili voce eis accinunt: dissentiens in eo ab Aristotele[3], quem Gallinas absque dolore parere, authorem esse supra diximus. Unde item Porphyrium[4] falsum ita scripsisse dicendum est: Maritus etiam inter bruta partus dolores intelligit, et plurimi ex eis, parientibus faeminis condolent, ut Gallinacei: quidam etiam excubando iuvant, ut Columbi. Verum visus est aliquando Gallus, teste Aristotele[5], mortua Gallina, eius munus obire, hoc est, vel incubare ova, vel iam natos pullos educare, insigni sane benevolentiae signo.

That’s why in Ausonius we read the motto The rooster of Euclio, which is directed to the man who is accustomed to examine and investigate everything most diligently, not even neglecting a speck of dust until he has found that which he searched for with meticulous diligence. Truly therefore also the rooster reveals the love and that his fondness when, singing in a manner quite different from his crowing, but very similar to the hens’ own song, he testifies that he is sharing the sorrow by which he believes his wives are filled. Oppian of Apamea mentions this by these words: Roosters seem to relieve the hens’ delivery, and to console them by partaking of their sorrow, when they sing, going along with them, by a quiet and thin voice: Oppian disagrees in this subject with Aristotle who states that hens lay eggs without pain, as I said before. Therefore we must say that similarly Porphyrius wrote a lie as follows: Even among beasts the male understands the delivery’s pains, and many of them share the pain when the females are giving birth, like roosters: some even help by incubation, as pigeons. In fact, according to Aristotle, sometimes, when a hen is dead, a rooster has been seen to take on her tasks, that is, or to incubate eggs, or to rear the already born chicks, undoubtedly as evident sign of fondness.

Quid vero de ingenio eius dicemus, quo certe plurimum valere quivis merito dixerit, qui perspectam huius avis naturam habuerit. Proxime gloriam sentiunt, inquit Plinius[6], et hi nostri vigiles nocturni, quos excitandis in opera mortalibus, rumpendoque somno natura genuit. Norunt sidera, et ternas distinguunt horas interdiu cantu. Cum Sole eunt cubitum quartaque castrensi vigilia ad curas laboremve revocant. Nec Solis ortum incautis sinunt obrepere, diemque venientem nunciant cantu, ipsum vero cantum plausu laterum. Imperitant suo generi, et regnum, in quacunque sunt domo, exercent. Dimicatione paritur hoc {quoque} inter ipsos, velut ideo tela agnata cruribus suis {intelligentes.} <intelligentium,> <nec finis saepe commorientibus. Quod si palma contigit, statim in victoria canunt seque ipsi principes testantur; victus occultatur silens aegreque servitium patitur. Et plebs tamen aeque superba graditur ardua cervice, cristis celsa, caelumque sola volucrum aspicit crebra, in sublime caudam quoque falcatam erigens.>[7] Aelianus[8] etiam non Solis tantum, sed Lunae etiam ortu laetari Gallinaceos scribit, ubi ait: Gallinaceum exoriente Luna, quasi divino quodam spiritu afflatum bacchari, atque exultare ferunt. Oriens autem Sol nunquam ipsum fallit tum vehementissima voce contendens, semet magis, magisque cantando vincere conatur.

But what shall I now say about his character, since anyone who has examined the nature of this bird could rightly say that it is of the highest strength. Pliny says: Nearly likewise - the peacocks - are longing for glory also these our nightly guardians Nature created for arousing mortals to their labor and for breaking their slumber. They are acquainted with the stars and distinguish every three-hour period during the day with their crowing. They go to bed with the sun, and at the fourth camp watch (i.e. between 3 and 6 o' clock) they recall us to our cares and labor. And they do not permit the sunrise to creep upon us unnoticed and announce the coming day with song, and the song itself is announced by flapping the wings. They rule over the animals of their genus and exercise, in whatever home they are, a sort of dominion. This sovereignty is obtained by dueling among themselves, as though they are aware of the weapons grown upon their legs, <nor the fighting has an end since often they die together. But if the palm of victory falls to them, they immediately sing as triumphant, immediately proclaim themselves as sovereigns. That who has been defeated hides in silence and reluctantly suffers the subjugation, however even the common flock, equally proud, walks with head held high, with erect comb. And the rooster is the only bird looking often at the sky, rising upwards also the sickle shaped tail.> Aelian writes also that roosters are delighted not only by sunrise but also by moonrise, when he says: They say the rooster at moonrise gets restless like crazy and leaps about, as pervaded by a divine puff. He never fails to notice the sunrise and then applying himself with a very strong voice he goes out of his way with singing to surpass more and more himself.

Res item summa admiratione digna est, Gallum tum silentio uti, et pulchellam illam suam vocem, cucu<r>ritum inquam, celare nosse, cum mortua Gallina coniuge sua, ipse eius officio fungens ova incubat, quod id mulierem decere, et parum virile esse non ignoret, ut idem Aelianus[9] memoriae prodidit. Illud praeterea ingenio harum avium ascribendum est, quod cum sese copia sanguinis immoderati aggravari sentiunt, unguibus cristas tam diu scalpant, donec illato vulnere sanguinis fluxum proliciant, atque ita ab imminentibus malis sibi ipsis medici liberent. Plinius[10] similiter herbam, quae vocatur helxine agnoscere eos tradit, eaque sese dum indigent remedio, purgare.

Likewise it is worthy of great amazement that the rooster keeps silent and knows how to conceal that his beautiful voice, I mean his crowing, when, being died the hen his partner, taking over her duties, he himself sits on the eggs, which he understands is befitting a female and that it is not much  manly, as Aelian himself handed down. Moreover the following fact must be ascribed to the intelligence of these birds: when they feel themselves burdened with an immoderate supply of blood, they scratch their combs with their nails so long until they produce a flow of blood by the inflicted wound and, physicians of themselves, until they deliver themselves from imminent ills. Likewise Pliny reports that they know a herb called helxine - perhaps Parietaria officinalis, Pellitory of the wall - and use it as a purgative when they need a remedy.

Haud ab re igitur D. Iob[11] quaerebat{;}<:> Quis dedit Gallo intelligentiam? Verum istaec intelligentia non rerum divinarum cognitio est, ut quispiam ex Plinii verbis, quae paulo ante adduximus, qui nimirum sidera nosse, etc. dixit, arguere possit, sed naturalis, quae tamen nec ipsa cum deliberatione constet. Quomodo etiam cum summa industria terram unguibus scalpendo victum quaerit. Hoc scalpur<r>ire Plautus dixit de sepulta olla loquens[12]: Ubi erat haec (olla) defossa coepit ibi scalpur<r>ire ungulis circumcirca: veteres etiam ruspari, atque hinc eo verbo pro sedulo perscrutari utuntur: unde alibi[13] idem ait: Corruspare tua consilia in pectore. Alibi[14] denique facetissime eiusmodi ruspationi scriptionem amasiae Cal{l}idori comparavit, quia nimirum difficulter ob male formatas literas legi poterat: ait autem.

An obsecro Hercle habent quoque Gallinae manus?

Nam has quidem Gallina scripsit.

Therefore not for no reason Saint Job wondered: Who gave the rooster intelligence? To tell the truth, this intelligence is not knowledge of divine affairs, as someone might argue from Pliny’s words, which I quoted a little while ago, that is, he said he is acquainted with the stars etc, but an intelligence of nature’s affairs, which in itself does not arise from a decisional act. Alike he also seeks food by scratching with the greatest industry the earth with his nails. Plautus called scalpurrire - to scratch - this activity when speaking of the buried pot: Where this (pot) was buried, there he began to scratch all around with his nails. The ancients also used the word ruspari, and therefore they use this verb with the meaning of very carefully to look for. Hence in another comedy he even says: To weigh carefully your decisions in the mind. Finally, in another comedy, he has most wittily compared the writing of Calidorus’ lover – the courtesan Phoenicium - with such a scratching, just because that bad writing could be read only with great difficulty on account of its badly formed letters: for Plautus - by means of Pseudolus - says:

I beg you, by Hercules, do hens also have hands?

For a hen wrote these (letters) undoubtedly.