sung last night, when young Coridon the shepherd played so purely on his oaten pipe to you and your cousin Betty.

MAUDLIN. I will, mother.

I married à wife of late,
The more's my unhappy fate :
I married her for love,
As my fancy did me move,
And not for a worldly estate :
But oh! the green sickness
Soon changed her likeness;
And all her beauty did fail.
But 'tis not so

With those that go
Thro' frost and snow,
As all men know,

And carry the milking-pail.

PISCATOR. Well sung, good woman; I thank you. I'll give you another dish of fish one of these days; and then beg another song of you. Come, scholar! let Maudlin alone: do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look! yonder comes mine hostess, to call us to supper. How now! is my brother Peter come?

HOSTESS. Yes, and a friend with him. They are both glad to hear that you are in these parts; and long to see you; and long to be at supper, for they be very hungry.

CHAPTER V

More Directions how to fish for, and how to make for the Trout an Artificial Minnow and Flies, with some Merriment

PISCATOR. Well met, brother Peter! I heard you and a friend would lodge here to-night; and that hath made me to bring my friend to lodge here too. My friend is one that would fain be a brother of the angle: he hath been an angler but this day; and I have taught him how to catch

a Chub, by dapping with a grasshopper; and the Chub he caught was a lusty one of nineteen inches long. But pray, brother Peter, who is your companion?

PETER. Brother Piscator, my friend is an honest countryman, and his name is Coridon; and he is a downright witty companion, that met me here purposely to be pleasant and eat a Trout; and I have not yet wetted my line since we met together; but I hope to fit him with a Trout for his breakfast; for I'll be early up.

PISCATOR. Nay, brother, you shall not stay so long; for, look you! here is a Trout will fill six reasonable bellies.

Come, hostess, dress it presently; and get us what other meat the house will afford; and give us some of your best barley-wine, the good liquor that our honest forefathers did use to drink of; the drink which preserved their health, and made them live so long, and to do so many good deeds.

I

PETER. O' my word, this Trout is perfect in season. Come, I thank you, and here is a hearty draught to you, and to all the brothers of the angle wheresoever they be, and to my young brother's good fortune to-morrow. will furnish him with a rod, if you will furnish him with the rest of the tackling: we will set him up, and make him a fisher. And I will tell him one thing for his encouragement, that his fortune hath made him happy to be scholar to such a master; a master that knows as much, both of the nature and breeding of fish, as any man; and can also tell him as well how to catch and cook them, from the Minnow to the Salmon, as any that I ever met withal.

PISCATOR. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar to be so suitable to my own humour, which is to be free and pleasant and civilly merry, that my resolution is to hide nothing that I know from him. Believe me, scholar, this is my resolution; and so here's to you a hearty draught, and to all that love us and the honest art of Angling.

VENATOR. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow

your seed in barren ground; for I hope to return you an increase answerable to your hopes: but, however, shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable to my best ability.

you

PISCATOR. 'Tis enough, honest scholar! come, let's to supper. Come, my friend Coridon, this Trout looks lovely; it was twenty-two inches when it was taken; and the belly of it looked, some part of it, as yellow as a marigold, and part of it as white as a lily; and yet, methinks, it looks better in this good sauce.

CORIDON. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well, and tastes well I thank you for it, and so doth my friend Peter, or else he is to blame.

PETER. Yes, and so I do we all thank you and when we have supped, I will get my friend Coridon to sing you a song for requital.

I

CORIDON. I will sing a song, if anybody will sing another, else, to be plain with you, I will sing none. am none of those that sing for meat, but for company:

I say,

'Tis merry in hall,
When men sing all.'

PISCATOR. I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately made, at my request, by Mr. William Basse; one that hath made the choice songs of the 'Hunter in his Career,' and of 'Tom of Bedlam,' and many others of note; and this, that I will sing, is in praise of Angling.

CORIDON. And then mine shall be the praise of a Countryman's life. What will the rest sing of?

PETER. I will promise you, I will sing another song in praise of Angling to-morrow night; for we will not part till then; but fish to-morrow, and sup together: and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his business.

VENATOR. 'Tis a match; and I will provide you a song or a catch against then, too, which shall give some addition of mirth to the company; for we will be civil and as merry as beggars. Let's e'en say

PISCATOR. 'Tis a match, my masters. grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to whet

our whistles, and so sing away all sad thoughts. Come on, my masters, who begins? I think it is best to draw cuts, and avoid contention.

PETER. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to Coridon.

CORIDON. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate con

tention.

CORIDON'S SONG

Oh the sweet contentment
The countryman doth find!
Heigh trolollie lollie loe,
Heigh trolollie lee.

That quiet contemplation
Possesseth all my mind:
Then care away,

And wend along with me.

For Courts are full of flattery,
As hath too oft been tried;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

The City full of wantonness,
And both are full of pride:
Then care away, etc.

But oh, the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart,

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

His pride is in his tillage,

His horses, and his cart:
Then care away, etc.

Our clothing is good sheep-skins,
Grey russet for our wives;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
"Tis warmth and not gay clothing
That doth prolong our lives:

Then care away, etc.

The ploughman, tho' he labour hard,

Yet on the holy-day,

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

No emperor so merrily

Does pass his time away:

Then care away, etc.

To recompense our tillage,
The heavens afford us showers;
Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

E

And for our sweet refreshments
The earth affords us bowers:
Then care away, etc.

The cuckow and the nightingale
Full merrily do sing,

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the Spring :
Then care away, etc.

This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

Though others think they have as much,
Yet he that says so lies:

Then come away,

Turn countrymen with me.

Jo. CHALKHILL.

PISCATOR. Well sung, Coridon, this song was sung with mettle; and it was choicely fitted to the occasion: shall love you for it as long as I know you. I would you were a brother of the angle; for a companion that is cheerful, and free from swearing and scurrilous discourse, is worth gold. I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon one another next morning; nor men, that cannot well bear it, to repent the money they spend when they be warmed with drink. And take this for a rule: you may pick out such times and such companies, that you make yourselves merrier for a little than a great deal of money; for "'Tis the company and not the charge that makes the feast'; and such a companion you prove: I thank you for it.

But I will not compliment you out of the debt that I owe you, and therefore I will begin my song, and wish it may be so well liked.