Phil. Surely, methinks, my true love doth excell,
For sweetness, for sweetness,

Our Pan, that old Arcadian knight.

Cor. And, methinks my true love bears the bell,
For clearness, for clearness,

Beyond the nymphs that be so bright.

Phil. Had my Coridon, my Coridon,
Been, alack! my swain:

Cor. Had my lovely one, my lovely one,
Been in Ida plain :

Phil. Cynthia Endymion had refus'd,
Preferring, preferring

My Coridon to play with-all.

Cor. The Queen of Love had been excused,
Bequeathing, bequeathing

Phil.

My Phillida the golden ball.

Yonder comes my mother, Coridon!
Whither shall I fly?

Cor. Under yon beach, my lovely one,
While she passeth by.

Phil. Say to her thy true love was not here.
Remember, remember,

To-morrow is another day.

Cor. Doubt me not, my true love; do not fear:
Farewell, then, farewell then.
Heaven keep our loves alway.

PAINTER.-Thank

you, thank you; that is a well-tuned gladsome pastoral, and as well sung as it is composed; and I will now confess, this walk to the Dove, and the freshness of the Derbyshire hills, and, above all, the ingenuous delight you take in following Mr. Cotton's footsteps, have put new thoughts into my mind. There is the best picture I can make for you; but I am not a limner to fix those intricate lights and shadows that flit from one rock to another with the passing clouds.

ANGLER.-Marry, Sir, it could not be

better composed; and now let us towards Alstonfields, and over the wheelbarrow bridge.

PAINTER. With all my heart; but not on 'all fours.' Observe how the water hurries away, rippling over the rocky bed.

ANGLER. Ah! saw you that, Sir?

PAINTER.-I saw nothing: what was it? ANGLER. It was a hungry trout rose at a fly: now, by your leave, I must have the delight to try my poor skill in the Dove. That trout has transported me beyond discretion.

PAINTER.-You have my permission; so fix your tackling and go to work.

ANGLER.-There again: did you not see him

rise?

PAINTER. I saw him not.

ANGLER.-Well, then, if I have any luck, you shall see him by supper time at Alstonfields.

PAINTER. I wish you good sport with all my heart, and do you call me if you chance to hook him; meantime I'll contrive another sketch of these glades and rocks.

ANGLER. Do not forget to make the Dove a part of your picture.

PAINTER.-And remember, you have promised to requite me with a good trout for

supper.

ANGLER. I said a brace.

PAINTER.-Better and better; so farewell, and good luck go with thee.

PAINTER.- How now, Brother Piscator? ANGLER-Hoi! quickly,-that you may

partake of the delights of angling here is a heavy fish, and my line being slender give me

the net.

PAINTER. Nay, I beseech you, let me land him, that I may have the honour of a helping hand with our first trout in the Dove.

ANGLER. You shall, and welcome too; but manage him with discretion.

PAINTER.-Trust me I'm ready-haul him now to the bank; ah, me! he's gone away again he was desperate.

ANGLER.-Fear not, I have him safe: I but play with him; see, he begins to tire; and now you may take him: gently, gently—it was judiciously netted.

PAINTER. Do but look how his belly and sides are spotted with bright red spots.

ANGLER. It is a goodly fish; but I must give you a brace: and there was another rise under the further bank; wait a moment, and he is mine.

PAINTER. Then I'll call you a master of your art, and since you have entertained me with the pleasure of this trout, I'll go finish my picture of the Dove, for it is worth all my little skill in drawing. So; how is it with you?

ANGLER.-Here is the brace of trouts I promised you.

PAINTER.-You are as good as your word. And I have not been idle.

ANGLER. I thank you; they are the very rocks and my Dove; and here is the bridge and I declare, two anglers landing a trout!

E

So hither away for Alstonfields with merry hearts;

There roast him and baste him with good claret wine, For the calvor'd boyl'd trout will make thee to dine With dainty contentment.'•

PAINTER.-Step on, brother, for you cannot desire to be at supper more than I do; and now we have trudged up the hill, and are come to the church we saw from Hanson Toot, on the other side.

ANGLER.-And there is the honest alehouse' I told you of and see, mine host standing under the porch, ready to welcome loyal travellers to the King's Head.

PAINTER.-Kept by HERBERT MARSH-for there's his name printed in large underneath.

Barker's Delight; or the Art of Angling, wherein are discovered many rare secrets both for catching fish and dressing thereof, &c. 12° 1657.-Ed.

CHAPTER II.

A Conference at Supper between the Angler, the Painter, and the Host.

ANGLER.-How do you, Mr. Marsh?
HOST.-Gentlemen, your servant at com-

mand.

PAINTER. Can we have good entertainment and clean beds at your house?

HOST.-Sir! we shall do our utmost to give you satisfaction: and for beds, I may say there are not better in the Peak, with sheets laid ' up in lavender.' What, ho! boy, take these gentlemen's fish pannier and angle rods. Will it please you, Sirs, to walk into the parlour?

ANGLER. It is well; and the sooner you can make ready for supper the better pleased we shall be; for we have walked all the way from Derby; and here is a brace of trouts: but look you, Mr. Marsh, one condition I would make, and that is, you dress them according to a fancy I have.

HOST.-Sir, you shall be obeyed; nevertheless we have a notable method for boiling a trout or grayling in these parts, that I never knew to displease any anglers.

ANGLER. But if you know not the manner recommended by Mr. Cotton, who lives at Beres