Marriage is like putting your hand into a bag of snakes in the

In the biting yet poetic wit of Leonardo da Vinci, that restless spirit of the Renaissance who sought truth in every corner of existence, we find the cautionary words: “Marriage is like putting your hand into a bag of snakes in the hope of pulling out an eel.” At first, this saying may sound cruel, even cynical, but within it lies not bitterness — rather, the hard-won wisdom of observation, the voice of a man who had seen the perilous dance between passion and human nature. Leonardo, who studied both anatomy and the soul, understood that where desire and duty intertwine, the outcome is never simple. He saw marriage as a venture both noble and dangerous — a test of fate in which one seeks harmony in a realm filled with chaos.

To the ancients, marriage was not merely a contract of companionship, but a mirror of the world itself. In its joys and storms lay the reflection of creation — for love, like the universe, is born from fire and tension. Leonardo’s metaphor of snakes and eel captures this truth vividly: the snakes represent the unpredictable passions, the hidden dangers, and the pride that dwell within human hearts. The eel, rare and slippery, symbolizes that elusive treasure — true union, where two spirits find peace amidst the tempest. Yet few can reach into the unknown with such fortune. Thus, Leonardo’s warning was not to scorn love, but to respect its danger, to understand that to seek companionship without understanding oneself is to gamble with venom.

Leonardo himself lived as an observer of humanity rather than a participant in its social institutions. He saw kings wed for power and commoners wed for survival, and in both, he discerned the same pattern: that many reach for love as if it were a prize, forgetting it is also a discipline. His art reveals this understanding. Look to the Mona Lisa, whose smile contains both serenity and sorrow — a reflection of every marriage’s secret balance between joy and mystery. To Leonardo, the act of binding two lives was an experiment in harmony, no less intricate than his designs for flying machines or divine proportion. It was a noble pursuit — but one that could just as easily destroy as uplift.

Consider the tragic story of Henry VIII of England, whose marriages, born from passion and politics alike, ended in ruin and blood. Each union began with hope — the dream of finding that “eel,” that perfect fulfillment — but each dissolved into discord and cruelty. His tale is a living echo of Leonardo’s warning: that when one enters the bag of snakes, blinded by ambition or desire, one may grasp not peace but poison. Yet even in failure, such stories teach us that the quest for love cannot be abandoned — only approached with greater wisdom.

Still, not all who reach into that uncertain bag are bitten. There are those who, through patience, humility, and truth, do find their eel — not by chance, but by character. The poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning, bound not by convenience but by a meeting of souls, found in each other the rare balance of passion and respect. Their letters, written with reverence and candor, show that love thrives not in control, but in mutual wonder. They too risked the snakes — society’s disapproval, illness, distance — yet their courage drew forth something luminous and lasting. From such examples, we learn that Leonardo’s words, though edged with caution, do not condemn love; they illuminate its perilous beauty.

The meaning of the quote, then, lies in the tension between hope and awareness. Leonardo teaches that to enter marriage — or any deep bond — without understanding the darkness within ourselves and others is to invite disaster. Yet he also admits the greatness of the human spirit, that dares to risk pain for the chance of connection. To hope for the eel is an act of faith, even when surrounded by the serpents of pride, jealousy, and fear. Such faith, tempered by wisdom, becomes not folly but courage — the courage to love while knowing the price of love.

Let this be the lesson to those who listen: enter the chamber of love with open eyes. Do not fear the snakes, but recognize them — for they live within every heart, coiled in silence, waiting to be understood. Cultivate honesty before passion, understanding before union. And if you reach into the bag, do so not with greed or illusion, but with patience and reverence. For if you do, you may yet draw forth the eel — that rare and sacred bond where two souls, aware of their shadows, choose light together.

Thus spoke Leonardo not to scorn love, but to warn the dreamer: that the hand which reaches blindly will bleed, but the one that reaches with awareness may find a living treasure. Love, like art, demands both vision and discipline. And only those who embrace both the peril and the promise shall discover, within the nest of serpents, the smooth, glimmering truth of the heart.