Piscator and Venator
Piscator. The Perch is a very good and very bold biting fish. He is one
of the fishes of prey that, like the Pike and Trout, carries his teeth
in his mouth, which is very large: and he dare venture to kill and
devour several other kinds of fish. He has a hooked or hog back, which
is armed with sharp and stiff bristles, and all his skin armed, or
covered over with thick dry hard scales, and hath, which few other fish
have, two fins on his back. He is so bold that he will invade one of his
own kind, which the Pike will not do so willingly; and you may,
therefore, easily believe him to be a bold biter.
The Perch is of great esteem in Italy, saith Aldrovandus: and especially
the least are there esteemed a dainty dish. And Gesner prefers the Perch
and Pike above the Trout, or any fresh-water fish: he says the Germans
have this proverb, "More wholesome than a Perch of Rhine": and he says
the River-Perch is so wholesome, that physicians allow him to be eaten
by wounded men, or by men in fevers, or by women in child-bed.
He spawns but once a year; and is, by physicians, held very nutritive;
yet, by many, to be hard of digestion. They abound more in the river Po,
and in England, says Rondeletius, than other parts: and have in their
brain a stone, which is, in foreign parts, sold by apothecaries, being
there noted to be very medicinable against the stone in the reins. These
be a part of the commendations which some philosophical brains have
bestowed upon the freshwater Perch: yet they commend the Sea-Perch which
is known by having but one fin on his back, of which they say we English
see but a few, to be a much better fish.
The Perch grows slowly, yet will grow, as I have been credibly informed,
to be almost two feet long; for an honest informer told me, such a one
was not long since taken by Sir Abraham Williams, a gentleman of worth,
and a brother of the angle, that yet lives, and I wish he may: this was
a deep-bodied fish, and doubtless durst have devoured a Pike of half his
own length. For I have told you, he is a bold fish; such a one as but
for extreme hunger the Pike will not devour. For to affright the Pike,
and save himself, the Perch will set up his fins, much like as a
turkey-cock will sometimes set up his tail.
But, my scholar, the Perch is not only valiant to defend himself, but he
is, as I said, a bold-biting fish: yet he will not bite at all seasons
of the year; he is very abstemious in winter, yet will bite then in the
midst of the day, if it be warm: and note, that all fish bite best about
the midst of warm day in winter. And he hath been observed, by some, not
usually to bite till the mulberry-tree buds; that is to say, till
extreme frosts be past the spring; for, when the mulberry-tree blossoms,
many gardeners observe their forward fruit to be past the danger of
frosts; and some have made the like observation of the Perch's biting.
But bite the Perch will, and that very boldly. And, as one has wittily
observed, if there be twenty or forty in a hole, they may be, at one
standing, all catched one after another; they being, as he says, like
the wicked of the world, not afraid, though their fellows and companions
perish in their sight. And you may observe, that they are not like the
solitary Pike, but love to accompany one another, and march together in
troops.
And the baits for this bold fish are not many: I mean, he will bite as
well at some, or at any of these three, as at any or all others
whatsoever: a worm, a minnow, or a little frog, of which you may find
many in hay-time. And of worms; the dunghill worm called a brandling I
take to be best, being well scoured in moss or fennel; or he will bite
at a worm that lies under cow-dung, with a bluish head. And if you rove
for a Perch with a minnow, then it is best to be alive; you sticking
your hook through his back fin; or a minnow with the hook in his upper
lip, and letting him swim up and down, about mid-water, or a little
lower, and you still keeping him to about that depth by a cork, which
ought not to be a very little one: and the like way you are to fish for
the Perch with a small frog, your hook being fastened through the skin
of his leg, towards the upper part of it: and, lastly, I will give you
but this advice, that you give the Perch time enough when he bites; for
there was scarce ever any angler that has given him too much. And now I
think best to rest myself; for I have almost spent my spirits with
talking so long.
Venator. Nay, good master, one fish more, for you see it rains still:
and you know our angles are like money put to usury; they may thrive,
though we sit still, and do nothing but talk and enjoy one another.
Come, come, the other fish, good master.
Piscator. But, scholar, have you nothing to mix with this discourse,
which now grows both tedious and tiresome? Shall I have nothing from
you, that seem to have both a good memory and a cheerful spirit?
Venator. Yes, master, I will speak you a copy of verses that were made
by Doctor Donne, and made to shew the world that he could make soft and
smooth verses, when he thought smoothness worth his labour: and I love
them the better, because they allude to Rivers, and Fish and Fishing.
They be these:
Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thy eyes more than the sun
And there the enamel'd fish will stay
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hash,
Most amorously to thee will swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, beest loath
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;
And if mine eyes have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee,
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snares or windowy net;
Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest,
The bedded fish in banks outwrest;
Let curious traitors sleeve silk flies,
To 'witch poor wand'ring fishes' eyes.
For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art shine own bait;
That fish that is not catcht thereby,
Is wiser afar, alas, than I.
Piscator. Well remembered, honest scholar. I thank you for these choice
verses; which I have heard formerly, but had quite forgot, till they
were recovered by your happy memory. Well, being I have now rested
myself a little, I will make you some requital, by telling you some
observations of the Eel; for it rains still: and because, as you say,
our angles are as money put to use, that thrives when we play, therefore
we'll sit still, and enjoy ourselves a little longer under this
honeysuckle hedge.
The fourth day-continued
Of the Eel, and other Fish that want Scales