Cruell, you do me wrong to set me thus so light, Without desert for my good will to shew me such despight. How can ye thus entreat a Lion of the race, (30) That with his pawes a crowned king deuoured in the place: +Whose nature is to pray vpon no simple food, As long as he may suck the flesh, and drink of noble blood. If you be faire and fresh, am I not of your hue? And for my vaunt I dare well say my blood is not vntrue. (35) For you your self haue heard it is not long agoe, Sith that for loue one of the race did end his life in woe +In tower strong and hie for his assured truth, Whereas in teares he spent his breath, alas the more the ruth. This gentle beast so dyed whom nothing could remoue, (40) But willingly to lese his life for losse of his true loue. Other there be whose liues do lingre still in paine, Against their willes preserued at that would haue died faine, But now I do perceaue that nought it moueth you, My good entent, my gentle hart, nor yet my kinde so true. (45) But that your will is such to lure me to the trade, As other some full many yeres to trace by craft ye made. +And thus behold our kindes how that we differ farre. I seke my foes: and you your frendes do threaten still with warre I fawne where I am fled: you slay that sekes to you, (50) I can deuour no yelding pray: you kill where you subdue. My kinde is to desire the honour of the field: And you with blood to slake your thirst on such as to you yeld. Wherefore I would you wist that for your coyed lookes, I am no man that will be trapt nor tangled with such hookes. (55) And though some lust to loue where blame full well they might, And to such beasts of currant sort that would haue trauail bright. I will obserue the law that Nature gaue to me, To conquer such as will resist and let the rest go fre. And as a Faucon free that soreth in the ayre, (60) Which neuer fed on hand nor lure, nor for no stale doth care, While that I liue and breath such shall my custome be, In wildnes of the woods to seke my pray where pleaseth me. where many one shall rue, that neuer made offence. Thus your refuse against my power shall bote them no defence. (65) And for reuenge therof I vow and swere therto, A thousand spoiles I shall commit I neuer thought to do. And if to light on you my lucke so good shall be, I shall be glad to fede on that that would haue fed on me.