came hunting down
the edge of the grove for prey, and espying Saladyne began to seize
upon him: but seeing he lay still without any motion, he left to touch
him, for that lions hate to prey on dead carcases; and yet desirous to
have some food, the lion lay down and watched to see if he would stir.
While thus Saladyne slept secure, fortune that was careful of her
champion began to smile, and brought it so to pass, that Rosader,
having stricken a deer that but lightly hurt fled through the thicket,
came pacing down by the grove with a boar-spear in his hand in great
haste. He spied where a man lay asleep, and a lion fast by him: amazed
at this sight, as he stood gazing, his nose on the sudden bled, which
made him conjecture it was some friend of his. Whereupon drawing more
nigh, he might easily discern his visage, perceived by his physnomy
that it was his brother Saladyne, which drave Rosader into a deep
passion, as a man perplexed at the sight of so unexpected a chance,
marvelling what should drive his brother to traverse those secret
deserts, without any company, in such distress and forlorn sort. But
the present time craved no such doubting ambages,[1] for either he
must resolve to hazard his life for his relief, or else steal away,
and leave him to the cruelty of the lion. In which doubt he thus
briefly debated with himself:

[Footnote 1: windings.]

ROSADER'S MEDITATION

"Now, Rosader, fortune that long hath whipped thee with nettles, means
to salve thee with roses, and having crossed thee with many frowns,
now she presents thee with the brightness of her favors. Thou that
didst count thyself the most distressed of all men, mayest account
thyself the most fortunate amongst men, if Fortune can make men happy,
or sweet revenge be wrapped in a pleasing content. Thou seest Saladyne
thine enemy, the worker of thy misfortunes, and the efficient cause of
thine exile, subject to the cruelty of a merciless lion, brought into
this misery by the gods, that they might seem just in revenging his
rigor, and thy injuries. Seest thou not how the stars are in a
favorable aspect, the planets in some pleasing conjunction, the fates
agreeable to thy thoughts, and the destinies performers of thy
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 revenue