s 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 bea