'Scholar. And I, if my company might 'stand you in any stead.' Thereupon ensued a gentle and most ingenious conversation: and they argued the mysterious matter of the omnipotency and incomprehensible greatness of God, to their mutual contentment and confirmation in the truth, until they came to Newcastle, where the scholar's little nag would scarce hold foot with the strong gelding of the gentleman; and so they put up at some honest house where the scholar was acquainted, and were both heartily welcome, and honestly used for their money.' And there we will leave them to their entertainment and rest,—and cross this meadow of buttercups. PAINTER.-You have angled me on, and beguiled the way with these colloquies most pleasantly; for we have walked some miles, and I heartily thank you. ANGLER.--Look, Sir; now you have a view of some rocks before you in a little distance; there are the steep declivities overhanging the other side of the Dove, which is at a great depth below. A few steps more, and we are come to Hanson Grange. PAINTER-It is a pretty sequestered spot; and the house stands on the very brow of the cliff, which is ornamented with wood; and I hope we are arrived at Dove Dale. ANGLER. Have patience: not yet, Sir;-this is Nab's Dale: but turn again this way to the right, for there is Hanson Toot. And look, yonder is the church at Alstonfields; and, I beseech you, deny me not the contrivance of a picture. PAINTER. I'll do it cheerfully; and the hills array themselves to an advantage. What a general harmony is in the works of nature! Here, by a few lines, with seeming carelessness put together, even those bleak and craggy hills are made to the congruity and order of beauty; and the aspect of the church on the hill is pretty for a distance. ANGLER-And when you are come there, you shall find a retired village, and a decent house of entertainment; where we may have supper and a clean bed. PAINTER.-Was it there PISCATOR cheered his companion after his journey? ANGLER.-Not so; for Mr. Cotton conducted him to his handsome seat at Beresford, and there you may believe he made amends, as he promised to do, for bringing him an ill mile or two out of his way;' for he gave him a hearty welcome; and after that they made no strangers of each other, but with good Moorland ale and a pipe of tobacco passed an hour or two in conversation before they went to bed. PAINTER. And I am ready to do the same; so let us be going, for there is my poor copy of Alstonfields church. ANGLER. It is the church itself, and those distant hills, that stand behind it with a natural gloom. Come on, Sir. PAINTER.-Gently, so please you; and let me take care of myself down these slippery How the path winds and turns in a zig-zag! I shall tumble ere I get to the stones. bottom. ANGLER. Never fear, Sir ! never fear; every slippery stone and every step of the way has an maginary charm for me; for here it was Mr. Cotton travelled with his friend, who was in a strange taking as he crept or slided down. PAINTER.And well he might be, for it is an uncouth precipice: it is the land of breakneck. ANGLER.-A little steep, I grant you; but come on, for methinks we are near the sign of a bridge,' which is so narrow, VIATOR thought it was fit only for wheelbarrows, and declared he was inclinable to go over on all 'fours: so look out. PAINTER. Nay, Sir; but to look out for any thing beyond my footing, is more than man can do in such a ribble rabble place as this. ANGLER.-Come, brother, give over this complaining for, look you, there is the wheel'barrow bridge;' and listen to the river below. How the noise of her waters falls on mine ear like the voice of melody! Welcome, chrystal Dove; for we purpose to cast away some innocent hours in thy cool recesses. Oh my beloved nymph, fair Dove, Upon thy flowery banks to lie, 6 And view the silver stream 'When gilded by a summer's beam ! And with my angle upon them The all of treachery 'I ever learn'd industriously to try.'* * THE RETIREMENT. Irregular stanzas by Charles Cotton. PAINTER.-Now we are safely down; and the river rustles merrily under the bridge, crisping itself into foam. And what hamlet is yonder, on the Staffordshire side, with a cheerful mill? ANGLER. That is Mill Dale, and there lies the road to Alstonfields. PAINTER.-Let us be forward; for the sun sinks down apace, 6 Bidding farewell unto the gloomy sky.' ANGLER. -Stay a while: if you have any affection for me, you will not pass by this enchanting glen, and leave me no record. Look again-see how the evening gleams linger over the tops of the mountains. I beseech you, sit on this broad stone,' and draw me a picture. 6 PAINTER. This landskip needs a better hand than mine to give the natural fall of the rocks, and throw that bridge and the mill into a deep perspective. ANGLER.-You are too modest; so pr'ythee begin, and I'll sit by your side, and repeat you some pastoral verses composed by famed Sir Walter Raleigh. PAINTER.-Come, then, tune your voice to the air, 'And loudly sing a roundelay of love.' ANGLER.-Shall I give you' Phillida's love'call to her Coridon, and his replying?' PAINTER.-Aye, do so. ANGLER. (sings.) " Coridon, arise my Coridon.' PAINTER.-Sing, I pray you, boldly, that the rocks may answer with an echo. PHILLIDA'S LOVE-CALL TO HER CORIDON, AND HIS REPLYING. Phil. Coridon, arise, my Coridon, Cor. Titan shineth clear. Who is it that calleth Coridon? Who is it that I hear? Phil. Phillida, thy true love calleth thee; Arise then, arise then; Arise, and keep thy flock with me. Cor. Phillida, my true love, is it she? Phil. I come then, I come then; I come to keep my flock with thee. Cor. Here's my oaten pipe, my lovely one, Sport for thee to make. Phil. Here are threads, my true love, fine as silk, A pair of stockings as white as milk. Cor. Here are reeds, my true love, fine and neat, A bonnet to withstand the heat. Cor. I will gather pears, my lovely one, Phil. I will buy my true love garters gay, Cor. I will buy my true love yellow sey,* To wear about her middle small. Making melody. Cor. When my lovely goes to her wheel, Silk. |