_Viat_. My friend _Piscator_, you have kept time with my thoughts,
for the Sun is just rising, and I my self just now come to this place,
and the dogs have just now put down an _Otter_, look down at the bottom
of the hil, there in that Meadow, chequered with water Lillies and
Lady-smocks, there you may see what work they make: look, you see all
busie, men and dogs, dogs and men, all busie.
_Pisc_. Sir, I am right glad to meet you, and glad to have so fair an
entrance into this dayes sport, and glad to see so many dogs, and more
men all in pursuit of the _Otter_; lets complement no longer, but joine
unto them; come honest _Viator_, lets be gone, lets make haste, I long
to be doing; no reasonable hedge or ditch shall hold me.
_Viat_. Gentleman Huntsman, where found you this _Otter_?
_Hunt_. Marry (Sir) we found her a mile off this place a fishing; she
has this morning eaten the greatest part of this _Trout_, she has only
left thus much of it as you see, and was fishing for more; when we came
we found her just at it: but we were here very early, we were here an
hour before Sun-rise, and have given her no rest since we came: sure
she'l hardly escape all these dogs and men. I am to have the skin if we
kill him.
_Viat_. Why, Sir, whats the skin worth?
_Hunt_. 'Tis worth ten shillings to make gloves; the gloves of an
_Otter_ are the best fortification for your hands against wet weather
that can be thought of.
_Pisc_. I pray, honest Huntsman, let me ask you a pleasant question, Do
you hunt a Beast or a fish?
_H_. Sir, It is not in my power to resolve you; for the question has
been debated among many great Clerks, and they seem to differ about it;
but most agree, that his tail is fish: and if his body be fish too,
then I may say, that a fish will walk upon land (for an _Otter_ does
so) sometimes five or six, or ten miles in a night. But (Sir) I can
tell you certainly, that he devours much fish, and kils and spoils much
more: And I can tell you, that he can smel a fish in the water one
hundred yards from him (_Gesner_ sayes, much farther) and that his
stones are good against the Falling-sickness: and that there is an herb
_Benione_, which being hung in a linen cloth near a Fish Pond, or any
haunt that he uses, makes him to avoid the place, which proves he can
smell both by water and land. And thus much for my knowledg of the
_Otter_, which you may now see above water at vent, and the dogs close
with him; I now see he will not last long, follow therefore my Masters,
follow, for _Sweetlips_ was like to have him at this vent.
_via_. Oh me, all the Horse are got over the river, what shall we do
now?
_Hun_. Marry, stay a little & follow, both they and the dogs will be
suddenly on this side again, I warrant you, and the _Otter_ too it may
be: now have at him with _Kil buck_, for he vents again.
_via_. Marry so he is, for look he vents in that corner. Now, now
_Ringwood_ has him. Come bring him to me. Look, 'tis a Bitch _Otter_
upon my word, and she has lately whelped, lets go to the place where
she was put down, and not far from it, you will find all her young
ones, I dare warrant you: and kill them all too.
_Hunt_. Come Gentlemen, come all, lets go to the place where we put
downe the _Otter_; look you, hereabout it was that shee kennell'd; look
you, here it was indeed, for here's her young ones, no less then five:
come lets kill them all.
_Pisc_. No, I pray Sir; save me one, and I'll try if I can make her
tame, as I know an ingenuous Gentleman in _Leicester-shire_ has done;
who hath not only made her tame, but to catch fish, and doe many things
of much pleasure.
_Hunt_. Take one with all my heart; but let us kill the rest. And now
lets go to an honest Alehouse and sing _Old Rose_, and rejoice all of
us together.
_Viat_. Come my friend, let me invite you along with us; I'll bear your
charges this night, and you shall beare mine to morrow; for my
intention is to accompany you a day or two in fishing.
_Pisc_. Sir, your request is granted, and I shall be right glad, both
to exchange such a courtesie, and also to enjoy your company.
* * * * *
_Viat_. Well, now lets go to your sport of Angling.
_Pisc_. Lets be going with all my heart, God keep you all, Gentlemen,
and send you meet this day with another bitch _Otter_, and kill her
merrily, and all her young ones too.
_Viat_. Now _Piscator_, where wil you begin to fish?
_Pisc_. We are not yet come to a likely place, I must walk a mile
further yet before I begin.
_Viat_. Well then, I pray, as we walk, tell me freely how you like my
Hoste, and the company? is not mine Hoste a witty man?
_Pisc_. Sir, To speak truly, he is not to me; for most of his conceits
were either Scripture-jests, or lascivious jests; for which I count no
man witty: for the Divel will help a man that way inclin'd, to the
first, and his own corrupt nature (which he alwayes carries with him)
to the latter. But a companion that feasts the company with wit and
mirth, and leaves out the sin (which is usually mixt with them) he is
the man: and indeed, such a man should have his charges born: and to
such company I hope to bring you this night; for at _Trout-Hal_, not
far from this place, where I purpose to lodg to night, there is usually
an Angler that proves good company.
But for such discourse as we heard last night, it infects others; the
very boyes will learn to talk and swear as they heard mine Host, and
another of the company that shall be nameless; well, you know what
example is able to do, and I know what the Poet sayes in the like case:
----_Many a one
Owes to his Country his Religion:
And in another would as strongly grow,
Had but his Nurse or Mother taught him so_.
This is reason put into Verse, and worthy the consideration of a wise
man. But of this no more, for though I love civility, yet I hate severe
censures: I'll to my own Art, and I doubt not but at yonder tree I
shall catch a _Chub_, and then we'll turn to an honest cleanly Alehouse
that I know right well, rest our selves, and dress it for our dinner.
_via_. Oh, Sir, a _Chub_ is the worst fish that swims, I hoped for a
_Trout_ for my dinner.
_Pis_. Trust me, Sir, there is not a likely place for a _Trout_
hereabout, and we staid so long to take our leave of your Huntsmen this
morning, that the Sun is got so high, and shines so clear, that I will
not undertake the catching of a _Trout_ till evening; and though a
_Chub_ be by you and many others reckoned the worst of all fish, yet
you shall see I'll make it good fish by dressing it.
_Viat_. Why, how will you dress him?
_Pisc_. I'll tell you when I have caught him: look you here, Sir, do
you see? (but you must stand very close) there lye upon the top of the
water twenty _Chubs_: I'll catch only one, and that shall be the
biggest of them all: and that I will do so, I'll hold you twenty to
one.
_Viat_. I marry, Sir, now you talk like an Artist, and I'll say, you
are one, when I shall see you perform what you say you can do; but I
yet doubt it.
_Pisc_. And that you shall see me do presently; look, the biggest of
these _Chubs_ has had some bruise upon his tail, and that looks like a
white spot; that very _Chub_ I mean to catch; sit you but down in the
shade, and stay but a little while, and I'll warrant you I'll bring him
to you.
_viat_. I'll sit down and hope well, because you seem to be so
confident.
_Pisc_. Look you Sir, there he is, that very _Chub_ that I shewed you,
with the white spot on his tail; and I'll be as certain to make him a
good dish of meat, as I was to catch him. I'll now lead you to an
honest Alehouse, where we shall find a cleanly room, Lavender in the
windowes, and twenty Ballads stuck about the wall; there my Hostis
(which I may tell you, is both cleanly and conveniently handsome) has
drest many a one for me, and shall now dress it after my fashion, and I
warrant it good meat.
_viat_. Come Sir, with all my heart, for I begin to be hungry, and long
to be at it, and indeed to rest my self too; for though I have walked
but four miles this morning, yet I begin to be weary; yester dayes
hunting hangs stil upon me.
_Pisc_. Wel Sir, and you shal quickly be at rest, for yonder is the
house I mean to bring you to.
Come Hostis, how do you? wil you first give us a cup of your best Ale,
and then dress this _Chub_, as you drest my last, when I and my friend
were hereabout eight or ten daies ago? but you must do me one
courtesie, it must be done instantly.
_Host_. I wil do it, Mr. _Piscator_, and with all the speed I can.
_Pisc_. Now Sir, has not my Hostis made haste? And does not the fish
look lovely?
_Viat_. Both, upon my word Sir, and therefore lets say Grace and fall
to eating of it.
_Pisc_. Well Sir, how do you like it?
_viat_. Trust me, 'tis as good meat as ever I tasted: now let me thank
you for it, drink to you, and beg a courtesie of you; but it must not
be deny'd me.
_Pisc_. What is it, I pray Sir? You are so modest, that me thinks I may
promise to grant it before it is asked.
_viat_. Why Sir, it is that from henceforth you wil allow me to call
you Master, and that really I may be your Scholer, for you are such a
companion, and have so quickly caught, and so excellently cook'd this
fish, as makes me ambitious to be your scholer.
_Pisc_. Give me your hand: from this time forward I wil be your Master,
and teach you as much of this Art as I am able; and will, as you desire
me, tel you somewhat of the nature of some of the fish which we are to
Angle for; and I am sure I shal tel you more then every Angler yet
knows.
And first I will tel you how you shall catch such a _Chub_ as this was;
& then how to cook him as this was: I could not have begun to teach you
to catch any fish more easily then this fish is caught; but then it
must be this particular way, and this you must do:
Go to the same hole, where in most hot days you will finde floting neer
the top of the water, at least a dozen or twenty _Chubs_; get a
_Grashopper_ or two as you goe, and get secretly behinde the tree, put
it then upon your hook, and let your hook hang a quarter of a yard
short of the top of the water, and 'tis very likely that the shadow of
your rod, which you must rest on the tree, will cause the _Chubs_ to
sink down to the bottom with fear; for they be a very fearful fish, and
the shadow of a bird flying over them will make them do so; but they
will presently rise up to the top again, and there lie soaring till
some shadow affrights them again: when they lie upon the top of the
water, look out the best _Chub_, which you setting your self in a fit
place, may very easily do, and move your Rod as softly as a Snail
moves, to that _Chub_ you intend to catch; let your bait fall gently
upon the water three or four inches before him, and he will infallibly
take the bait, and you will be as sure to catch him; for he is one of
the leather-mouth'd fishes, of which a hook does scarce ever lose his
hold: and therefore give him play enough before you offer to take him
out of the water. Go your way presently, take my rod, and doe as I bid
you, and I will sit down and mend my tackling till you return back.
_viat_. Truly, my loving Master, you have offered me as fair as I could
wish: Ile go, and observe your directions.
Look you, Master, what I have done; that which joyes my heart; caught
just such another _Chub_ as yours was.
_Pisc_. Marry, and I am glad of it: I am like to have a towardly
Scholar of you. I now see, that with advice and practice you will make
an Angler in a short time.
_Viat_. But Master, What if I could not have found a _Grashopper_?
_Pis_. Then I may tell you, that a black _Snail_, with his belly slit,
to shew his white; or a piece of soft cheese will usually do as well;
nay, sometimes a _worm_, or any kind of _fly_; as the _Ant-fly_, the
_Flesh-fly_, or _Wall-fly_, or the _Dor_ or _Beetle_, (which you may
find under a Cow-turd) or a _Bob_, which you will find in the same
place, and in time wil be a _Beetle_; it is a short white worm, like
to, and bigger then a Gentle, or a _Cod-worm_, or _Case-worm_: any of
these will do very wel to fish in such a manner. And after this manner
you may catch a _Trout_: in a hot evening, when as you walk by a Brook,
and shal see or hear him leap at Flies, then if you get a _Grashopper_,
put it on your hook, with your line about two yards long, standing
behind a bush or tree where his hole is, and make your bait stir up and
down on the top of the water; you may, if you stand close, be sure of a
bit, but not sure to catch him, for he is not a leather mouthed fish:
and after this manner you may fish for him with almost any kind of live
Flie, but especially with a _Grashopper_.
_Viat_. But before you go further, I pray good Master, what mean you by
a leather mouthed fish.
_Pisc_. By a leather mouthed fish, I mean such as have their teeth in
their throat, as the _Chub_ or _Cheven_, and so the _Barbel_, the
_Gudgion_ and _Carp_, and divers others have; and the hook being stuck
into the leather or skin of such fish, does very seldome or never lose
its hold: But on the contrary, a _Pike_, a _Pearch_, or _Trout_, and so
some other fish, which have not their teeth in their throats, but in
their mouthes, which you shal observe to be very full of bones, and the
skin very thin, and little of it: I say, of these fish the hook never
takes so sure hold, but you often lose the fish unless he have gorg'd
it.
_Viat_. I thank you good Master for this observation; but now what shal
be done with my _Chub_ or _Cheven_ that I have caught.
_Pisc_. Marry Sir, it shall be given away to some poor body, for Ile
warrant you Ile give you a _Trout_ for your supper; and it is a good
beginning of your Art to offer your first fruits to the poor, who will
both thank God and you for it.
And now lets walk towards the water again, and as I go Ile tel you when
you catch your next _Chub_, how to dresse it as this was.
_viat_. Come (good Master) I long to be going and learn your direction.
_Pisc_. You must dress it, or see it drest thus: When you have scaled
him, wash him very cleane, cut off his tail and fins; and wash him not
after you gut him, but chine or cut him through the middle as a salt
fish is cut, then give him four or five scotches with your knife, broil
him upon wood-cole or char-cole; but as he is broiling; baste him often
with butter that shal be choicely good; and put good store of salt into
your butter, or salt him gently as you broil or baste him; and bruise
or cut very smal into your butter, a little Time, or some other sweet
herb that is in the Garden where you eat him: thus used, it takes away
the watrish taste which the _Chub_ or _Chevin_ has, and makes him a
choice dish of meat, as you your self know, for thus was that dressed,
which you did eat of to your dinner.
Or you may (for variety) dress a _Chub_ another way, and you will find
him very good, and his tongue and head almost as good as a _Carps_; but
then you must be sure that no grass or weeds be left in his mouth or
throat.
Thus you must dress him: Slit him through the middle, then cut him into
four pieces: then put him into a pewter dish, and cover him with
another, put into him as much White Wine as wil cover him, or Spring
water and Vinegar, and store of Salt, with some branches of Time, and
other sweet herbs; let him then be boiled gently over a Chafing-dish
with wood coles, and when he is almost boiled enough, put half of the
liquor from him, not the top of it; put then into him a convenient
quantity of the best butter you can get, with a little Nutmeg grated
into it, and sippets of white bread: thus ordered, you wil find the
_Chevin_ and the sauce too, a choice dish of meat: And I have been the
more careful to give you a perfect direction how to dress him, because
he is a fish undervalued by many, and I would gladly restore him to
some of his credit which he has lost by ill Cookery.
_Viat_. But Master, have you no other way to catch a _Cheven_, or
_Chub_?
_Pisc_. Yes that I have, but I must take time to tel it you hereafter;
or indeed, you must learn it by observation and practice, though this
way that I have taught you was the easiest to catch a _Chub_, at this
time, and at this place. And now we are come again to the River; I wil
(as the Souldier sayes) prepare for skirmish; that is, draw out my
Tackling, and try to catch a _Trout_ for supper.
_Viat_. Trust me Master, I see now it is a harder matter to catch a
_Trout_ then a _Chub_; for I have put on patience, and followed you
this two hours, and not seen a fish stir, neither at your Minnow nor
your worm.
_Pisc_. Wel Scholer, you must indure 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 sleight is to land
him: Reach me that Landing net: So (Sir) now he is mine own, what say
you? is not this worth all my labour?
_Viat_. On my word Master, this is a gallant _Trout_; what shall we do
with him?
_Pisc_. Marry ee'n eat him to supper: We'l go to my Hostis, 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 lodg there to night, and bring a friend with him. My Hostis has
two beds, and I know you and I may have the best: we'l rejoice with my
brother _Peter_ and his friend, tel tales, or sing Ballads, or make a
Catch, or find some harmless sport to content us.
_Viat_. A match, good Master, lets go to that house, for the linen
looks white, and smels of Lavender, and I long to lye in a pair of
sheets that smels so: lets be going, good Master, for I am hungry again
with fishing.
_Pisc_. Nay, stay a little good Scholer, I caught my last _Trout_ with
a worm, now I wil put on a Minow and try a quarter of an hour about
yonder trees for another, and so walk towards our lodging. Look you
Scholer, thereabout we shall have a bit presently, or not at all: Have
with you (Sir!) on my word I have 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 Scholer, towards yonder high hedg:
We'l sit whilst this showr falls so gently upon the teeming earth, and
gives a sweeter smel to the lovely flowers that adorn the verdant
Meadows.
Look, under that broad _Beech tree_ I sate 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 cave, near to the brow of that Primrose hil; there I sate
viewing the Silver streams glide silently towards their center, the
tempestuous Sea, yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots, and pibble
stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into some: and
sometimes viewing the harmless Lambs, some leaping securely in the cool
shade, whilst others sported themselvs in the cheerful Sun; and others
were craving comfort from the swolne Udders of their bleating Dams. As
I thus sate, these and other sighs had so fully possest my soul, that I
thought as the Poet has happily exprest it:
_I was for that time lifted above earth;
And possest joyes 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 Milk-maid, that had cast away
all care, and sung like a _Nightingale_; her voice was good, and the
Ditty fitted for it; 'twas 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, which was made by Sir _Walter Raleigh_ in his younger
days.
They were old fashioned Poetry, but choicely good, I think much better
then that now in fashion in this Critical age. Look yonder, on my word,
yonder they be both a milking again: I will give her the _Chub_, and
persuade them to sing those two songs to us.
_Pisc_. God speed, good woman, I have been a-fishing, and am going to
_Bleak Hall_ to my bed, and having caught more fish then will sup my
self and friend, will bestow this upon you and your daughter for I use
to sell none.
_Milkw_. Marry, God requite you Sir, and we'l eat it cheerfully: will
you drink a draught of red Cow's milk?
_Pisc_. No, I thank you: but I pray do us a courtesie that shal stand
you and your daughter in nothing, and we wil think our selves stil
something in your debt; it is but to sing us a Song, that that was sung
by you and your daughter, when I last past over this Meadow, about
eight or nine dayes since.
_Milk_. what Song was it, I pray? was it, _Come Shepherds deck your
heads_: or, _As at noon_ Dulcina _rested_: or _Philida flouts me_?
_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_. O I know it now, I learn'd the first part in my golden age,
when I was about the age of my daughter; and the later part, which
indeed fits me best, but two or three years ago; you shal, God willing,
hear them both. Come _Maudlin_, sing the first part to the Gentlemen
with a merrie heart, and Ile sing the second.
The Milk maids Song.
_Come live with me, and be my Love,
And we wil all the pleasures prove
That vallies, Groves, or hils, or fields,
Or woods and steepie mountains yeelds.
Where we will sit upon the_ Rocks,
_And see the Shepherds feed our_ flocks,
_By shallow_ Rivers, _to whose falls
Mellodious birds sing_ madrigals.
_And I wil make thee beds of_ Roses,
_And then a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a Kirtle,
Imbroidered all with leaves of Mirtle.
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 ivie buds,
With Coral clasps, and Amber studs
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my Love.
The Shepherds Swains shal dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my Love_.
_Via_. Trust me Master, it is a choice Song, and sweetly sung by honest
_Maudlin_: Ile bestow Sir _Thomas Overbury's_ Milk maids wish upon her,
_That she may dye in the Spring, and have good store of flowers stuck
round about her winding sheet_.
The Milk maids mothers answer.
_If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every Shepherds tongue?
These pretty pleasures might me move,
To live with thee, and be thy love.
But time drives flocks from field to fold:
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And_ Philomel _becometh dumb,
The Rest complains of cares to come.
The Flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward Winter reckoning yeilds
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancies spring, but sorrows fall.
Thy gowns, thy shooes, thy beds of Roses,
Thy Cap, thy Kirtle, and thy Posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and Ivie buds,
Thy Coral clasps and Amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy Love.
But could youth last, and love stil breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need;
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love_.
_Pisc_. Well sung, good woman, I thank you, I'l give you another dish
of fish one of these dayes, and then beg another Song of you. Come
Scholer, let Maudlin alone, do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look,
yonder comes my Hostis to cal us to supper. How now? is my brother
_Peter_ come?
_Host_. Yes, and a friend with him, they are both glad to hear you are
in these parts, and long to see you, and are hungry, and long to be at
supper.