The following extract from Pliny's account of the lion, "right pleasaunte" as it is in the original, is rendered still more so by Dr Holland. "To come againe to our lions: the signe of their intent and disposition, is their taile; like as in horses, their ears: for these two marks and tokens, certainly hath nature given to the most couragious beasts of all others, to know their affections by: for when the lion stirreth not his taile, hee is in a good mood, gentle, mild, pleasantly disposed, and as if hee were willing to be plaied withall; but in that fit he is seldome seene: for lightly hee is alwaies angrie. At the first, when hee entreth into his choller, hee beateth the ground with his taile: when hee groweth into greater heats, he flappeth and jerketh his sides and flanks withall, as it were to quicken himselfe, and stirre up his angry humor. His maine strength lieth in his breast: hee maketh not a wound (whether it be by lash of taile, scratch of claw, or print of tooth), but the bloud that followeth is blacke. When his belly is once full, all his anger is past, and he doth no more harme. His generositie and magnanimitie he sheweth most in his daungers: which courage of his appeareth not onely herein, that he seemeth to despise all shot of darts against him, defending himselfe a long time onely with the terrible aspect of his countenance, and protesting as it were that he is unwilling to deale unlesse he be forced thereto in his own defence, and at length maketh head againe, not as compelled and driven thereto for any perill that he seeth, but angred at their follie that assaile and set upon him: but herein also is seen rather his noble heart and courage, that be there never so many of hounds and hunters both following after him, so long as hee is in the open plaines where he may be seene, hee maketh semblance as though he contemned both dog and man, dismarching and retiring with honour, and otherwhiles seeming in his retreat to turne againe and make head; but when he hath gained the thickets and woods, and gotten once into the forrests out of sight, then he skuds away, then hee runneth amaine for life, as knowing full well that the trees and bushes hide him, that his shamefull dislodging and flight is not then espied. When he chaseth and followeth after other beasts, hee goeth alwaies saltant or rampant; which he never useth to doe when he is chased in sight, but is onely passant. If hee chaunce to be wounded, hee hath a marveilous eye to marke the partie that did it, and be the hunters never so many in number, upon him he runneth onely. As for him that hath let flie a dart at him, and yet missed his marke and done no hurt, if he chaunce to catch him, hee all to touzeth, shaketh, tosseth, and turneth him lying along at his feet, but doth him no harme at all besides. When the lionesse fighteth for her young whelpes, by report, she setteth her eies wistly, and entirely upon the