History of Monsters 677

...was communicated to the most renowned Ulisse Aldrovandi by Brother Gregory, a Capuchin of Reggio.

The almond is a very well-known tree, quite tall, with a thick, straight trunk, rough bark, and leaves similar to those of a peach. Recently, at the tip of a branch of this tree, certain leaves were observed that were very large, thick, and curled, and marked with a purple color, which completely diverged from the true leaves of the almond. Among these monstrous leaves, some were endowed with greenness, some were extremely thick, and some were so folded together that they seemed to mimic those elm galls from which little insects, like gnats, are known to fly out.

Because of this, we can conjecture that the folding of these leaves is caused by certain caterpillars in the process of building their cocoons, since among these monstrous leaves, white filaments with some eggs were found hidden—undoubtedly produced by a caterpillar or a similar small creature. We believe that a specific kind of caterpillar fashioned these cocoons among the leaves to propagate its offspring; for, from these woven cocoons, similar insects, transformed into chrysalises in the manner of caterpillars, give birth to butterflies.

Moreover, since the almond is a tree overflowing with many excrements and superfluities, we cannot help but conclude that these monstrous leaves arose from them—especially since a great deal of gum drips from this tree. Indeed, it is called *amygdalē* by the Greeks from the phrase *apo to echein amykas pollas*, because it has many cracks from which an abundance of gum escapes, and especially since we have learned that similar leaves are sometimes found on trees of this kind. Thus, such monstrous foliage can emerge from this redundant matter, from which a proportionate generation of caterpillars can then occur, according to the opinion of Aristotle: not just anything from anything, but something specific from something specific.

Unless we wish to assert that this tree has such a greedy drive for drawing nutrients and such a luxury of leaf-growth that, for the sake of the fruit's fate, it actually harms the fruit by greedily consuming the nourishment drawn from the ground into its leaves; thus, the portion necessary for the fruit is intercepted. We should therefore approve of the opinion of Theophrastus, who, speaking of a fault in this tree, saw fit to use the word *exybrizein*. Among the Greeks, *exybrizō* means to be carried away quite insolently, or to exceed the limit through petulance; it seems to refer to those plants that grow wild and luxuriant with an excessive abundance of foliage. This monster is shown in illustration II.

We should not exclude from these botanical monstrosities a certain species of nettle, monstrously produced by Nature, which has come into our hands. There are various types of nettles: stinging and non-stinging, and these grow either foul-smelling or scentless, and either spotted or unspotted. Dioscorides assigns two types of stinging nettles, although three types commonly grow in Italy. The first type grows with a rough, round, and stinging stem, bearing hairy and bristling pods with seeds on the stem. The second type grows with similar leaves but with a somewhat square stem, rough and bristling to the touch, with small seeds in clusters. The third type grows with smaller but sharper leaves.

For the first type, Mattioli calls it the first nettle (*Urtica prima*), Tragus calls it the Roman nettle (*Urtica romana*), de l'Obel refers to it as the wild nettle with flax-like seeds (*Urtica sylvestris semine lini*), Fuchs in his *Icones* calls it the true nettle (*Urtica vera*), Gessner in his medical garden calls it the male nettle (*Urtica mascula*), and Dodoens identifies it as the first stinging nettle (*Urtica urens prior*). The second type is called by Bauhin the greatest stinging nettle (*Urtica urens maxima*) and Dioscorides’ second nettle; Fuchs calls it the greater nettle (*Urtica maior*), de l'Obel the rougher wild nettle (*Urtica sylvestris asperior*), Tragus the common stinging nettle (*Urtica vulgaris urens*), and some call it the female or common nettle. Finally, the third type is named by Mattioli as the lesser stinging nettle (*Urtica urens minor*), perhaps Pliny’s *Cania* according to Bauhin, the small nettle (*Urtica exigua*) by Cesalpino, and the smallest stinging nettle (*Urtica urens minima*) by Dodoens.

Differing from all of these, we have observed a stinging nettle which we provide in illustration III; it differs not in species, but only in the monstrous appearance of its leaves, which could later be referred back to the second species. We do not wish to imitate Tabernaemontanus, who, noticing that the first species of stinging nettle sometimes turns reddish in its stem and root, established two species of nettle, calling one the greater nettle and the other the red nettle.

In this