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Hier aupres de Charenton Un serpent morait Jean Freron, Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva? Ce fut le serpent qui creva. - Unattributed Author, imitation from the Greek, also found in Oeuvres Complets de Voltaire, III, p. 1002, 1817, printed as Voltaire's, attributed to Piron, claimed for Freron Un gros serpent mordit Aurele. Que croyez-vous qu'il arriva? Qu' Aurele en mourut? Bagatelle! Ce fut le serpent qui creva. - Unattributed Author, in a manuscript commonplace book, probably written at the end of the 18th century, see "Notes and Queries", March 30, 1907, p. 246 What's one man's poison, signior, Is another's meat or drink. - Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Love's Cure (act III, sc. 2) One man's strawberries are another man's hives. - Donald G. Cooley, Eat and Get Slim (p. 65) 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.] - Demodocus, translation of his Greek Epigram The man recover'd of the bite, The dog it was that died. - Oliver Goldsmith, Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog It is medicine, not poison, I offer you. - Ephraim Gotthold Lessing 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. - Ephraim Gotthold Lessing, Paraphrase of Demodocus 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. - Pliny the Elder (Caius Plinius Secundus), Natural History (bk. VII, ch. II), (Holland's translation) 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.] - Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, Wilhelm Tell (IV, 3, 3) Poison is drunk out of gold. [Lat., Venenum in auro bibitur.] - Seneca (Lucius Annaeus Seneca), Thyestes (III, 453) 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. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet (Romeo at V, i) Talk no more of the lucky escape of the head From a flint so unhappily thrown; I think very different from thousands; indeed 'Twas a lucky escape for the stone. - Dr. John Wolcot (Wolcott or Woolcott) (used pseudonym Peter Pindar), on a stone thrown at King George III
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