likewise, every most invincible King of France can reduce and heal ailments of the throat—namely scrofula—simply by the touch of his hands, as was explained shortly before.

Schenck records a respectable citizen of Wrocław from whose lanced vein flowed not just blood, but the milk he had consumed the day before. Similarly, according to Dodoens, a certain Syrian man whose wife had died is said to have nourished his infant son in this way: he frequently placed the child at his own breasts, and through the constant sucking, milk flowed forth to nourish him. This will not seem miraculous according to the teachings of Aristotle, who recorded that milk can flow into the breasts through persistent suction. Truly, however, we must marvel more at bones without marrow; for Solinus tells of Lygdamus of Syracuse, a man of great strength, who not only lacked marrow in his bones but also never thirsted or produced sweat, and was the first to take the prize for the Pancration in the Olympic games. Finally, a wonder is told concerning the skin of those living in Brittany: infants are born marked with a certain sign of nobility, having a patch of whiteness on their backs; those lacking this sign are believed to have been born of adultery.

Solinus, among the wonders of human nature, recounts the laughter of an infant before its fortieth day. But Zoroaster laughed the very hour he was born, whereas his grandfather Crassus was never seen to laugh, and later perished in the Parthian War. Thus, in Solinus's view, precocious laughter was taken as a happy omen, as Zoroaster became most skilled in the liberal arts; conversely, late or absent laughter is regarded as a bad omen. Just as there lived men who never belched—such as Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, Cato, and Marcus Crassus—so also were there those who never spat, like the poet Pomponius and Antonia, the wife of Drusus; and finally, those who could never restrain their laughter, such as Zenophantus.

Regarding the intellect and memory of men, some preach marvelous things. Foremost, many women trained in the studies of the Muses have been memorable, such as Aspasia, Sappho, Elpis (the wife of Boethius), and Cornelia (the mother of the Gracchi), who, by Cicero’s testimony, wrote most learned letters sprinkled with oratorical brilliance. But, setting these aside, we turn to the record of memory itself. Petrarch, in his history of memorable things, mentions Pope Clement VI, who could not forget whatever he had read even once, even if he wished to; he acquired such a memory from a great blow to the head before he reached the heights of his supreme dignity. Indeed, it can sometimes happen that after a head injury, as blood flows, the memory is rendered more excellent and illustrious. We also have from Eusebius of Caesarea the marvelous memory of Valens, a deacon of the city of Aelia, who knew all the written words of God by heart. The same is told of John the Palestinian, a blind man, who when questioned about the Holy Bible could immediately bring forth everything as if from a literary storehouse. According to Maiolus, there also lived a boy in the year 1128 in the city of Soissons who could recite the entire history of the Old Testament in verse; the wonder is increased because he was a mere herdsman. He asserted that he had learned this from no other source than the divinely infused grace of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Furthermore, according to Pliny, Cyrus could recite the names of everyone in his army. King Mithridates, ruling over twenty-two nations, administered justice in as many languages and understood each of them without an interpreter. Seneca himself testified at the beginning of his *Declamations* that he possessed such a powerful memory that he could retain two hundred recited verses in his mind and repeat them in reverse order; indeed, he could repeat two thousand names in the order they were spoken. We ourselves knew a young man of illustrious intellectual gifts who proposed one hundred theses for public dispute and could repeat one hundred arguments brought against them perfectly in reverse order. Thus, memory is a very delicate and fragile part of the mind, which old age easily ravages; likewise, it is lost through falls, blows, or grave illness. Pliny tells of a man who, after his head was injured by a stone, forgot all his letters; similarly another who, having fallen from a high roof, consigned his parents and all kinsmen to oblivion; and finally another whose severe illness wiped away the memory of his own name.

Moreover, to those contemplating the favorable fortune of certain men, Telephus, the son of Hercules, first comes to mind; exposed in the woods by his grandfather’s command, he was nourished by a doe. Then there is Semiramis, an illustrious woman, who as an infant was imperiled almost before she was brought into the light,