“Sir, whatsoever thou be, as full of honor thou must needs be by the view of thy present valor, I perceive thou hast redressed my fortunes by thy courage, and saved my life with thine own loss, which ties me to be thine in all humble service.  Thanks thou shalt have as thy due, and more thou canst not have, for my ability denies me to perform a deeper debt.  But if anyways it please thee to command me, use me as far as the power of a poor gentleman may stretch.”

Rosader, seeing he was unknown to his brother, wondered to hear such courteous words come from his crabbed nature; but glad of such reformed nurture, he made this answer: 

“I am, sir, whatsoever thou art, a forester and ranger of these walks, who, following my deer to the fall, was conducted hither by some assenting fate, that I might save thee, and disparage myself.  For coming into this place, I saw thee asleep, and the lion watching thy awake, that at thy rising he might prey upon thy carcase.  At the first sight I conjectured thee a gentleman, for all men’s thoughts ought to be favorable in imagination, and I counted it the part of a resolute man to purchase a stranger’s relief, though with the loss of his own blood; which I have performed, thou seest, to mine own prejudice.  If, therefore, thou be a man of such worth as I value thee by thy exterior lineaments, make discourse unto me what is the cause of thy present fortunes.  For by the furrows in thy face thou seemest to be crossed with her frowns:  but whatsoever, or howsoever, let me crave that favor, to hear the tragic cause of thy estate.”

Saladyne sitting down, and fetching a deep sigh, began thus: 

SALADYNE’S DISCOURSE TO ROSADER UNKNOWN

“Although the discourse of my fortunes be the renewing of my sorrows, and the rubbing of the scar will open a fresh wound, yet that I may not prove ingrateful to so courteous a gentleman, I will rather sit down and sigh out my estate, than give any offence by smothering my grief with silence.  Know therefore, sir, that I am of Bordeaux, and the son and heir of Sir John of Bordeaux, a man for his virtues and valor so famous, that I cannot think but the fame of his honors hath reached farther than the knowledge of his personage.  The infortunate son of so fortunate a knight am I; my name, Saladyne; who succeeding my father in possessions, but not in qualities, having two brethren committed by my father at his death to my charge, with such golden principles of brotherly concord, as might have pierced like the Sirens’ melody into any human ear.  But I, with Ulysses, became deaf against his philosophical harmony, and made more value of profit than of virtue, esteeming gold sufficient honor, and wealth the fittest title for a gentleman’s dignity.  I set my middle brother to the university to be a scholar, counting it enough if he might pore on a book while I fed upon his revenues; and for the youngest, which was my father’s joy, young Rosader”—­And with that, naming of Rosader, Saladyne sate him down and wept.