It is narrated in the compositions of philosophers that scorpions are not born in the same manner like other living beings but that they devour the bowels of their mother and, after gnawing through the belly, betake themselves to the desert. The skins which may be seen in the nests of scorpions are the evidence of this. I narrated this story to an illustrious man who then told me that his own heart bore witness to the truth of it for the case could not be otherwise inasmuch as they, having in their infancy dealt thus with their fathers and mothers, they were beloved and respected in the same manner when they grow old.

A father thus admonished his son:
O noble fellow, remember this advice.
‘Whoever is not faithful to his origin
Will not become the companion of happiness.’

A scorpion, having been asked why he did not go out in winter, replied: ‘What honour do I enjoy in summer that I should come out also in winter?’