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Trouts but these several kinds are not considered but by very few men; for they go under the general name of Trouts: just as pigeons do, in most places; though it is certain, there are tame and wild pigeons: and of the tame, there be helmits and runts, and carriers and cropers, and indeed too many to name. Nay, the Royal Society have found and published lately, that there be thirty and three kinds of spiders; and yet all, for aught I know, go under that one general name of spider. And it is so with many kinds of fish, and of Trouts especially; which differ in their bigness, and shape, and spots, and colour. The great Kentish hens may be an instance, compared to other hens. And, doubtless, there is a kind of small Trout, which will never thrive to be big; that breeds very many more than others do, that be of a larger size: which you may rather believe, if you consider that the little wren and titmouse will have twenty young ones at a time, when, usually, the noble hawk, or the musical thrassel or blackbird, exceed not four or five.

And now you shall see me try my skill to catch a Trout. And at my next walking, either this evening or to-morrow morning, I will give you direction how you yourself shall fish for him.

Ven. Trust me, master, I see now it is a harder matter to catch a Trout than a Chub: for I have put on patience, and followed you these two hours, and not seen a fish stir, neither at your minnow nor your worm.

Pisc. Well, scholar, you must endure worse luck sometime, or you will never make a good angler. But what say you now? there is a Trout now, and a good one too, if I can but hold him; and two or three turns more will tire him. Now you see he lies still, and the reach me that landing-net. So,

sleight is to land him:

Sir, now he is mine own: what say you now, is not this worth all my labour and your patience?

Ven. On my word, master, this is a gallant Trout; what shall we do with him?

Pisc. Marry, e'en eat him to supper: we'll go to my hostess from whence we came; she told me, as I was going out of door, that my brother Peter, a good angler and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would lodge there to-night, and bring a friend with him. My hostess has two beds, and I know you and I may have the best: we'll rejoice with my brother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or sing ballads, or make a catch, or find some harmless sport to content us and pass away a little time without offence to God or man.

Ven. A match, good master, let's go to that house, for the linen looks white, and smells of lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that smell so. Let's be going, good master, for I am hungry again with fishing. Pisc. Nay, stay a little, good scholar; I caught my last Trout with a worm; now, I will put on a minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yonder trees for another; and so walk towards our lodging. Look you, scholar, thereabout we shall have a bite presently, or not at all. Have with you, Sir: o' my word I have hold of him. Oh! it is a great logger-headed Chub; come, hang him upon that willow twig, and let's be going. But turn out of the way a little, good scholar! toward yonder high honeysuckle hedge; there we'll sit and sing, whilst this shower falls so gently upon the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant meadows.

Look! under that broad beech-tree I sat down, when I was last this way a-fishing. And the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree

near to the brow of that primrose-hill. There I sat viewing the silver streams glide silently towards their centre, the tempestuous sea; yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into foam. And sometimes I beguiled time by viewing the harmless lambs; some leaping securely in the cool shade, whilst others sported themselves in the cheerful sun; and saw others craving comfort from the swollen udders of their bleating dams. As I thus sat, these and other sights had so fully possest my soul with content, that I thought as the poet has happily exprest it,

I was for that time lifted above earth;

And possest joys not promis'd in my birth.

As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me; 'twas a handsome milkmaid, that had not yet attained so much age and wisdom as to load her mind with any fears of many things that will never be, as too many men too often do ; but she cast away all care, and sung like a nightingale; her voice was good, and the ditty fitted for it; it was that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least fifty years ago. And the milk-maid's mother sung an answer to it,

(1) Christopher Marlow was a poet of no small eminence in his day, as may be inferred from the frequent mention of him in the writings of his contemporaries. He was some time a student at Cambridge, and, after that, an actor on, and writer for the stage. There are extant, of his writing, five Tragedies; and a Poem that bears his name, entitled, Hero and Leander (possibly a translation from Museus) which, he not living to complete it, was finished by Chapman. The Song here mentioned is printed, with his name to it, in a Collection entitled England's Helicon, 4to, 1600, as is also the Answer, here said to be written by Sir Walter Raleigh, but there subscribed "Ignoto." Of Marlow it is said, that he was the author of divers atheistical and blasphemous discourses; and that in a quarrel with a serving man, his rival in a connection with a lewd woman, he received a stab with a dagger, and shortly after died of the stroke. Wood (from whom, then. Oxon. Vol. I. 338. and also from Beard's Theatre of God's Judgments, this account is taken) says, that the end of this person was noted by the Precisians; but surely the Precisians are to be acquitted of all blame, as having done nothing, more than asserted God's moral government of the world, by noting in this instance, one example out of many, of the natural tendency of impiety and profligacy to destruction and infamy.

F

which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his younger days.

They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I think much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age. Look yonder! on my word yonder they both be a milking again. I will give her the Chub, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us.

God speed you, good woman! I have been a fishing; and am going to Bleak Hall1 to my bed; and having caught more fish than will sup myself and my friend, I will bestow this upon you and your daughter, for I use to sell none.

Milk-w. Marry! God requite you, Sir, and we'll eat it cheerfully. And if you come this way a fishing two months hence, a grace of God! I'll give you a syllabub of new verjuice, in a new made hay-cock, for it. And my Maudlin shall sing you one of her best ballads; for she and I both love all anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men. In the mean time will you drink a draught of red cow's milk? you shall have it freely.

2

Pisc. No, I thank you; but, I pray, do us a courtesy that shall stand you and your daughter in nothing, and yet we will think ourselves still something in your debt: it is but to sing us a song that was sung by your daughter when I last passed over this meadow, about eight or nine days since.

(1) The author seems here to have forgot himself; for, page 47, he says he is to lodge at Trout-Hall.

(2) There are some few exceptions to this character of anglers: the greatest and most wonderful revolution that ever happened in any state, I mean that in Naples, in the year 1647, was brought about by an Angler: concerning whom we are told," that a young inan, about twenty-four, happened to be in a corner of the great market place at Naples; a sprightly man, of a middle stature, black eyed, rather lean than fat, having a small tuft of hair; he wore linen slops, a blue waistcoat, and went barefoot, with a mariner's cap; but he was of a good countenance, stout, and lively as could be. little fish with a cane, hook, and line. Amalfi, but vulgarly called Masaniello." in Naples, by Sig. Alessandro Giraffi.

His profession was to angle for His name was Tomaso Anello, of See the History of the Revolution

Milk-w. What song was it, I pray y? Was it, Come, Shepherds deck your herds? or, As at noon Dulcina rested? or, Phillida flouts me? or Chevy Chace? or Johnny Armstrong? or Troy Town?1

Pisc. No, it is none of those; it is a song that your daughter sung the first part, and you sung the answer to it. Milk-w. O, I know it now. I learned the first part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my poor daughter; and the latter part, which indeed fits me best now, but two or three years ago, when the cares of the world began to take hold of me : but you shall, God willing, hear them both; and sung as well as we can, for we both love anglers. Come, Maudlin, sing the first part to the gentlemen, with a merry heart; and I'll sing the second, when you have done.

THE MILK-MAID'S SONG.

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field,
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield;

Where we will sit, upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed our flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses;
And then, a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers; and a kirtle,
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers, lin'd choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds,
With coral clasps, and amber studs.
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love,

(1) See the songs' As at Noon,' 'Chevy Chace,' 'Johnny Armstrong,' and 'Troy Town,' printed, after the most authentic copies, in Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. 'Phillida flouts me' is to be found in an elegant collection of songs entitled The Hive, in four volumes, small 8vo. Vol. II. p. 270.

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