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. 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. I 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. Pisc. 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. Ven. 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, you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable to my best ability. Pisc. "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. Cor. 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. Cor. I will sing a song, if any body will sing another : else, to be plain with you, I will sing none: I am none of those that sing for meat, but for company: I say, 'Tis merry in hall, when men sing all.' Pisc. 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. Cor. 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. Ven. "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. Pisc. "Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say grace, (1) Parody on the adage, It's merry in hall, i. e. when all are eating. (2) This song, beginning "Forth from my sad and darksome cell," with the music to it, set by Hen. Lawes, is printed in a book entitled Choice Ayres, Songs, and Dialogues, tv sing to the Theorbo, Lute, and Bass Viol, folio, 1675; and in Playford's Antidote against Melancholy, 8vo. 1669; also in Dr. Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, Vol. II. p. 357 ; but in the latter with a mistake, in the last line of the third stanza, of the word Pentarchye for Pentateuch. 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. Cor. Well then, I will begin, for I hate contention. The cuckoo and the nightingale Heigh trolollie lee, &c. And with their pleasant roundelays This is not half the happiness The countryman enjoys; Heigh trolollie lee, &c. Though others think they have as much, Then come away, turn Countryman with me JO. CHALKHILL. I Pisc. Well sung, Coridon, this song was sung with mettle; and it was choicely fitted to the occasion: I shall love for it as long as I know you I would you. 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 may 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. THE ANGLER'S SONG. As inward love breeds outward talk, The hound some praise, and some the hawk, Some, better pleas'd with private sport, Use tennis, some a mistress court: But these delights I neither wish, (1) John Chalkhill, Esq. of whom mention is made in the Author's Life. Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride; Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide; A loser; but who falls in love, Is fetter'd in fond Cupid's snare: My angle breeds me no such care. Of recreation there is none All other pastimes do no less My hand alone my work can do, I care not, I, to fish in seas, Fresh rivers best my mind do please, In civil bounds I fain would keep, And when the timorous Trout I wait And when none bite, I praise the wise, But yet, though while I fish I fast, Who is more welcome to my dish As well content no prize to take, Where, (which is in no other game,) I therefore strive to follow those Cor. Well sung, brother, you have paid your debt in good coin. We anglers are all beholden to the good man that made this song: come, hostess, give us more ale, and let's drink to him. And now let's every one go to bed, that we may rise early but first let's pay our reckoning, for I will have nothing to hinder me in the morning; for my purpose is to prevent the sun-rising. |