desires, in that Saladyne shall die, and thou be free of his blood:  he receive meed for his amiss, and thou erect his tomb with innocent hands.  Now, Rosader, shalt thou return unto Bordeaux and enjoy thy possessions by birth, and his revenues by inheritance:  now mayest thou triumph in love, and hang fortune’s altars with garlands.  For when Rosalynde hears of thy wealth, it will make her love thee the more willingly:  for women’s eyes are made of Chrysocoll, that is ever unperfect unless tempered with gold, and Jupiter soonest enjoyed Danae, because he came to her in so rich a shower.  Thus shall this lion, Rosader, end the life of a miserable man, and from distress raise thee to be most fortunate.”  And with that, casting his boar-spear on his neck, away he began to trudge.

But he had not stepped back two or three paces, but a new motion stroke him to the very heart, that resting his boar-spear against his breast, he fell into this passionate humor: 

“Ah, Rosader, wert thou the son of Sir John of Bordeaux, whose virtues exceeded his valor, and yet the most hardiest knight in all Europe?  Should the honor of the father shine in the actions of the son, and wilt thou dishonor thy parentage, in forgetting the nature of a gentleman?  Did not thy father at his last gasp breathe out this golden principle, ‘Brothers’ amity is like the drops of balsamum, that salveth the most dangerous sores?’ Did he make a large exhort unto concord, and wilt thou show thyself careless?  O Rosader, what though Saladyne hath wronged thee, and made thee live an exile in the forest, shall thy nature be so cruel, or thy nurture so crooked, or thy thoughts so savage, as to suffer so dismal a revenge?  What, to let him be devoured by wild beasts! Non sapit qui non sibi sapit is fondly[1] spoken in such bitter extremes.  Lose not his life, Rosader, to win a world of treasure; for in having him thou hast a brother, and by hazarding for his life, thou gettest a friend, and reconcilest an enemy:  and more honor shalt thou purchase by pleasuring a foe, than revenging a thousand injuries.”

[Footnote 1:  foolishly.]

With that his brother began to stir, and the lion to rouse himself, whereupon Rosader suddenly charged him with the boar-spear, and wounded the lion very sore at the first stroke.  The beast feeling himself to have a mortal hurt, leapt at Rosader, and with his paws gave him a sore pinch on the breast, that he had almost fallen; yet as a man most valiant, in whom the sparks of Sir John of Bordeaux remained, he recovered himself, and in short combat slew the lion, who at his death roared so loud that Saladyne awaked, and starting up, was amazed at the sudden sight of so monstrous a beast lying slain by him, and so sweet a gentleman wounded.  He presently, as he was of a ripe conceit, began to conjecture that the gentleman had slain him in his defence.  Whereupon, as a man in a trance, he stood staring on them both a good while, not knowing his brother, being in that disguise:  at last he burst into these terms: