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 man, 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. His profession was to angle for little fish with a cane, hook, and line. Amalfi, but vulgarly called Masaniello." in Naples, by Sig. Alessandro Giraffi.

His name was Tomaso Anello, of See the History of the Revolution

Milk-w. What song was it, I pray? 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?'

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.

Thy silver dishes, for thy meat,
As precious as the Gods do eat,
Shall, on an ivory table, be
Prepar'd each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight, each May morning.
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

Ven. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it was not without cause that our good queen Elizabeth did so often wish herself a milk-maid all the month of May, because they are not troubled with fears and cares, but sing sweetly all the day, and sleep securely all the night: and without doubt, honest, innocent, pretty Maudlin does so. bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milk-maid's wish upon her, "that she may die in the Spring; and, being dead, may have good store of flowers stuck round about her winding sheet." 2

THE MILK-MAID'S MOTHER'S ANSWER.

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's 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;
Then Philomel becometh dumb;
And age complains of care to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields.
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall,

I'll

(1) Dr. Warburton, in his Notes on The Merry Wives of Windsor, ascribes this song to Shakspeare: it is true, Sir Hugh Evans, in the third Act of that play, sings four lines of it; and it occurs in a Collection of Poems said to be Shakspeare's, printed by Thomas Cotes for John Benson, 12mo. 1640. with some variations. On the contrary, it is to be found, with the name of "Christopher Marlow" to it, in England's Helicon; and Walton has just said it was made by Kit Marlow. The reader will judge of these evidences, as he pleases.

As to the song itself, though a beautiful one, it is not so purely pastoral as it is generally thought to be; buckles of gold; coral clasps and amber studs, silver dishes and ivory tables, are luxuries; and consist not with the parsimony and simplicity of rural life and manners.

(2) Sir Thomas Overbury's character of "a fayre and happy milke-maid," printed with his poem, entitled "The Wife," in 12mo. 1655.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, 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 ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy love.

What should we talk of dainties, then,
Of better meat than's fit for men?
These are but vain: that's only good
Which God hath blest, and sent for food.

But could youth last, and love still breed;
Had joys no date, nor age no need;
Then those delights my mind might move,
To live with thee, and be thy love.

Mother. Well! I have done my song. But stay, honest anglers; for I will make Maudlin to sing you one short song more. Maudlin! sing that song that you sung last night, when young Coridon the shepherd played so purely on his oaten pipe to you and your cousin Betty. Maud. I will, mother.

I married a 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.

Pisc. 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.1 Look! yonder comes

(1) The judgment of the author in this part of the dialogue is well worth noting. We may observe, that the interlocutors are Piscator and the Milkwoman; and that the daughter, except when she sings, and signifies her obedience to her mother in a speech of three words, is silent. It is pretty clear that Venator, after the second song (charmed perhaps with the maidenly inno

mine hostess, to call us to supper. How now! is my brother Peter come?

f

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.

CHAP. 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 daping 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.

Pisc, 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