heartily. Come, Hostess, lay a few more sticks on the fire; and now sing when you will. Pisc. Well then, here's to you, Coridon: and now for my song: None do here We sit still, And watch our quill; If the sun's excessive heat Make our bodies swelter, Without grudging, We are still contented. Or we sometimes pass an hour Think and pray, Stops our breath : Other joys Are but toys, And to be lamented. Jo. CHALKHILL. VEN. Well sung, Master: this day's fortune and pleasure, and this night's company and song, do all make me more and more in love with Angling. Gentlemen, my Master left me alone for an hour this day; and I verily believe he retired himself from talking with me, that he might be so perfect in this song: was it not, Master? PISC. Yes indeed; for it is many years since I learned it, and having forgotten a part of it, I was forced to patch it up by the help of mine own invention, who am not excellent at poetry, as my part of the song may testify: but of that I will say no more, lest you should think I mean by discommending it to beg your commendations of it. And therefore, without replication, let us hear your catch, Scholar, which I hope will be a good one; for you are both musical, and have a good fancy to boot. VEN. Marry, and that you shall; and as freely as I would have my honest Master tell me some more secrets of fish and fishing as we walk and fish towards London to-morrow. But, Master, first let me tell you, that very hour which you were absent from me, I sat down under a willow-tree by the water-side, and considered what you had told me of the owner of that pleasant meadow in which you then left me; that he had a plentiful estate, and not a heart to think so; that he had at this time many law-suits depending, and that they both damped his mirth, and took up so much of his time and thoughts, that he himself had not leisure to take the sweet content that I, who pretended no title to them, took in his fields: for I could there sit quietly, and looking on the water, see some fishes sport themselves in the silver streams, others leaping at flies of several shapes and colours looking on the hills, I could behold them spotted with woods and groves: looking down the meadows, could see here a boy gathering lilies and lady-smocks, and there a girl cropping culverkeyes and cowslips, all to make garlands suitable to this present month of May: these and many other The Columbine.-Nares. : field-flowers, so perfumed the air, that I thought that very meadow like that field in Sicily, of which Diodorus speaks, where the perfumes arising from the place make all dogs that hunt in it to fall off, and to lose their hottest scent. I say, as I thus sat joying in my own happy condition, and pitying this poor rich man, that owned this and many other pleasant groves and meadows about me, I did thankfully remember what my Saviour said, that the "meek possess the earth;" or rather, they enjoy what the other possess and enjoy not; for Anglers, and meek quiet-spirited men, are free from those high, those restless thoughts, which corrode the sweets of life; and they, and they only, can say, as the poet has happily expressed it: Hail, blest estate of lowliness! Happy enjoyments of such minds, Can, like the reeds in roughest winds, There came also into my mind, at that time, certain verses in praise of a mean estate and an humble mind: they were written by Phineas Fletcher,† an excellent divine, and an excellent Angler, and the author of excellent Piscatory Eclogues, in which you shall see the picture of this good man's mind: and I wish mine to be like it. *Diodorus Siculus, Hist. of Egypt, Persia, Syria, &c. He lived about 44 years, B. C.-Lemprière. + Son of Giles Fletcher, L.L.D., Ambassador from Queen Elizabeth to the Duke of Muscovy. In 1600 he became a Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. In 1633, he was known as the author of a fine allegorical poem, entitled "The Purple Island," printed at Cambridge with his other works. He died about 1650.---Hawkins. No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright, His certain life, that never can deceive him, Is full of thousand sweets and rich content; Or the vexatious world, or lost in slothful ease: His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps, His little son into his bosom creeps, The lively picture of his father's face: His humble house, or poor state, ne'er torment him; And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content him. Gentlemen, these were a part of the thoughts that then possessed me; and I there made a conversion of a piece of an old catch, and added more to it, fitting them to be sung by us Anglers: come, Master, you can sing well; you must sing a part of it, as it is in this paper: The verses following were composed for two voices, a Treble and Bass, by the celebrated Henry Lawes, most probably at Walton's request, and are to be found in a volume entitled "Select Musical Ayres and Dialogues," &c. 1659.-Hawkins. Henry Lawes was born at Salisbury, in 1600, and received his musical education in the choir of the cathedral there. He afterwards became a gentleman of the chapel royal, and one of the private band of king Charles the First. In 1634, he taught music in the family of the Earl of Bridgewater, at Ludlow castle, in Shropshire; at which time the occurrence took place that gave rise to Milton's masque of Comus, undertaken, it is said, at the suggestion of Mr. Lawes, who composed the music, and took a part in the representation, together with lord Brackley and Mr. Egerton, sons of the earl, and the lady Alice Egerton, his daughter, principals of the real incident, namely, that while passing through Haywood forest, in Herefordshire, they were benighted, and the lady for a short time lost. Henry Lawes died in 1662. His brother, William Lawes, lost his life at the siege of Chester, in the royal cause. |