The Complete Angler 1653 Part 4

Go to the same hole, where in most hot days you will finde floting neer the top of the water, at least a dozen or twenty _Chubs_; get a _Grashopper_ or two as you goe, and get secretly behinde the tree, put it then upon your hook, and let your hook hang a quarter of a yard short of the top of the water, and 'tis very likely that the shadow of your rod, which you must rest on the tree, will cause the _Chubs_ to sink down to the bottom with fear; for they be a very fearful fish, and the shadow of a bird flying over them will make them do so; but they will presently rise up to the top again, and there lie soaring till some shadow affrights them again: when they lie upon the top of the water, look out the best _Chub_, which you setting your self in a fit place, may very easily do, and move your Rod as softly as a Snail moves, to that _Chub_ you intend to catch; let your bait fall gently upon the water three or four inches before him, and he will infallibly take the bait, and you will be as sure to catch him; for he is one of the leather-mouth'd fishes, of which a hook does scarce ever lose his hold: and therefore give him play enough before you offer to take him out of the water. Go your way presently, take my rod, and doe as I bid you, and I will sit down and mend my tackling till you return back.

_viat_. Truly, my loving Master, you have offered me as fair as I could wish: Ile go, and observe your directions.

Look you, Master, what I have done; that which joyes my heart; caught just such another _Chub_ as yours was.

_Pisc_. Marry, and I am glad of it: I am like to have a towardly Scholar of you. I now see, that with advice and practice you will make an Angler in a short time.

_Viat_. But Master, What if I could not have found a _Grashopper_?

_Pis_. Then I may tell you, that a black _Snail_, with his belly slit, to shew his white; or a piece of soft cheese will usually do as well; nay, sometimes a _worm_, or any kind of _fly_; as the _Ant-fly_, the _Flesh-fly_, or _Wall-fly_, or the _Dor_ or _Beetle_, (which you may find under a Cow-t.u.r.d) or a _Bob_, which you will find in the same place, and in time wil be a _Beetle_; it is a short white worm, like to, and bigger then a Gentle, or a _Cod-worm_, or _Case-worm_: any of these will do very wel to fish in such a manner. And after this manner you may catch a _Trout_: in a hot evening, when as you walk by a Brook, and shal see or hear him leap at Flies, then if you get a _Grashopper_, put it on your hook, with your line about two yards long, standing behind a bush or tree where his hole is, and make your bait stir up and down on the top of the water; you may, if you stand close, be sure of a bit, but not sure to catch him, for he is not a leather mouthed fish: and after this manner you may fish for him with almost any kind of live Flie, but especially with a _Grashopper_.

_Viat_. But before you go further, I pray good Master, what mean you by a leather mouthed fish.

_Pisc_. By a leather mouthed fish, I mean such as have their teeth in their throat, as the _Chub_ or _Cheven_, and so the _Barbel_, the _Gudgion_ and _Carp_, and divers others have; and the hook being stuck into the leather or skin of such fish, does very seldome or never lose its hold: But on the contrary, a _Pike_, a _Pearch_, or _Trout_, and so some other fish, which have not their teeth in their throats, but in their mouthes, which you shal observe to be very full of bones, and the skin very thin, and little of it: I say, of these fish the hook never takes so sure hold, but you often lose the fish unless he have gorg'd it.

_Viat_. I thank you good Master for this observation; but now what shal be done with my _Chub_ or _Cheven_ that I have caught.

_Pisc_. Marry Sir, it shall be given away to some poor body, for Ile warrant you Ile give you a _Trout_ for your supper; and it is a good beginning of your Art to offer your first fruits to the poor, who will both thank G.o.d and you for it.

And now lets walk towards the water again, and as I go Ile tel you when you catch your next _Chub_, how to dresse it as this was.

_viat_. Come (good Master) I long to be going and learn your direction.

_Pisc_. You must dress it, or see it drest thus: When you have scaled him, wash him very cleane, cut off his tail and fins; and wash him not after you gut him, but chine or cut him through the middle as a salt fish is cut, then give him four or five scotches with your knife, broil him upon wood-cole or char-cole; but as he is broiling; baste him often with b.u.t.ter that shal be choicely good; and put good store of salt into your b.u.t.ter, or salt him gently as you broil or baste him; and bruise or cut very smal into your b.u.t.ter, a little Time, or some other sweet herb that is in the Garden where you eat him: thus used, it takes away the watrish taste which the _Chub_ or _Chevin_ has, and makes him a choice dish of meat, as you your self know, for thus was that dressed, which you did eat of to your dinner.

Or you may (for variety) dress a _Chub_ another way, and you will find him very good, and his tongue and head almost as good as a _Carps_; but then you must be sure that no gra.s.s or weeds be left in his mouth or throat.

Thus you must dress him: Slit him through the middle, then cut him into four pieces: then put him into a pewter dish, and cover him with another, put into him as much White Wine as wil cover him, or Spring water and Vinegar, and store of Salt, with some branches of Time, and other sweet herbs; let him then be boiled gently over a Chafing-dish with wood coles, and when he is almost boiled enough, put half of the liquor from him, not the top of it; put then into him a convenient quant.i.ty of the best b.u.t.ter you can get, with a little Nutmeg grated into it, and sippets of white bread: thus ordered, you wil find the _Chevin_ and the sauce too, a choice dish of meat: And I have been the more careful to give you a perfect direction how to dress him, because he is a fish undervalued by many, and I would gladly restore him to some of his credit which he has lost by ill Cookery.

_Viat_. But Master, have you no other way to catch a _Cheven_, or _Chub_?

_Pisc_. Yes that I have, but I must take time to tel it you hereafter; or indeed, you must learn it by observation and practice, though this way that I have taught you was the easiest to catch a _Chub_, at this time, and at this place. And now we are come again to the River; I wil (as the Souldier sayes) prepare for skirmish; that is, draw out my Tackling, and try to catch a _Trout_ for supper.

_Viat_. Trust me Master, I see now it is a harder matter to catch a _Trout_ then a _Chub_; for I have put on patience, and followed you this two hours, and not seen a fish stir, neither at your Minnow nor your worm.

_Pisc_. Wel Scholer, you must indure worse luck sometime, or you will never make a good Angler. But what say you now? there is a _Trout_ now, and a good one too, if I can but hold him; and two or three turns more will tire him: Now you see he lies still, and the sleight is to land him: Reach me that Landing net: So (Sir) now he is mine own, what say you? is not this worth all my labour?

_Viat_. On my word Master, this is a gallant _Trout_; what shall we do with him?

_Pisc_. Marry ee'n eat him to supper: We'l go to my Hostis, from whence we came; she told me, as I was going out of door, that my brother _Peter_, a good Angler, and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would lodg there to night, and bring a friend with him. My Hostis has two beds, and I know you and I may have the best: we'l rejoice with my brother _Peter_ and his friend, tel tales, or sing Ballads, or make a Catch, or find some harmless sport to content us.

_Viat_. A match, good Master, lets go to that house, for the linen looks white, and smels of Lavender, and I long to lye in a pair of sheets that smels so: lets be going, good Master, for I am hungry again with fis.h.i.+ng.

_Pisc_. Nay, stay a little good Scholer, I caught my last _Trout_ with a worm, now I wil put on a Minow and try a quarter of an hour about yonder trees for another, and so walk towards our lodging. Look you Scholer, thereabout we shall have a bit presently, or not at all: Have with you (Sir!) on my word I have him. Oh it is a great logger-headed _Chub_: Come, hang him upon that Willow twig, and let's be going. But turn out of the way a little, good Scholer, towards yonder high hedg: We'l sit whilst this showr falls so gently upon the teeming earth, and gives a sweeter smel to the lovely flowers that adorn the verdant Meadows.

Look, under that broad _Beech tree_ I sate down when I was last this way a fis.h.i.+ng, and the birds in the adjoining Grove seemed to have a friendly contention with an Echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow cave, near to the brow of that Primrose hil; there I sate viewing the Silver streams glide silently towards their center, the tempestuous Sea, yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots, and pibble stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into some: and sometimes viewing the harmless Lambs, some leaping securely in the cool shade, whilst others sported themselvs in the cheerful Sun; and others were craving comfort from the swolne Udders of their bleating Dams. As I thus sate, these and other sighs had so fully possest my soul, that I thought as the Poet has happily exprest it:

_I was for that time lifted above earth; And possest joyes not promis'd in my birth_.

As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me, 'twas a handsome Milk-maid, that had cast away all care, and sung like a _Nightingale_; her voice was good, and the Ditty fitted for it; 'twas that smooth Song which was made by _Kit Marlow_, now at least fifty years ago; and the Milk maid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir _Walter Raleigh_ in his younger days.

They were old fas.h.i.+oned Poetry, but choicely good, I think much better then that now in fas.h.i.+on in this Critical age. Look yonder, on my word, yonder they be both a milking again: I will give her the _Chub_, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us.

_Pisc_. G.o.d speed, good woman, I have been a-fis.h.i.+ng, and am going to _Bleak Hall_ to my bed, and having caught more fish then will sup my self and friend, will bestow this upon you and your daughter for I use to sell none.

_Milkw_. Marry, G.o.d requite you Sir, and we'l eat it cheerfully: will you drink a draught of red Cow's milk?

_Pisc_. No, I thank you: but I pray do us a courtesie that shal stand you and your daughter in nothing, and we wil think our selves stil something in your debt; it is but to sing us a Song, that that was sung by you and your daughter, when I last past over this Meadow, about eight or nine dayes since.

_Milk_. what Song was it, I pray? was it, _Come Shepherds deck your heads_: or, _As at noon_ Dulcina _rested_: or _Philida flouts me_?

_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_. O I know it now, I learn'd the first part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my daughter; and the later part, which indeed fits me best, but two or three years ago; you shal, G.o.d willing, hear them both. Come _Maudlin_, sing the first part to the Gentlemen with a merrie heart, and Ile sing the second.

The Milk maids Song.

_Come live with me, and be my Love, And we wil all the pleasures prove That vallies, Groves, or hils, or fields, Or woods and steepie mountains yeelds.

Where we will sit upon the_ Rocks, _And see the Shepherds feed our_ flocks, _By shallow_ Rivers, _to whose falls Mellodious birds sing_ madrigals.

_And I wil make thee beds of_ Roses, _And then a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers and a Kirtle, Imbroidered all with leaves of Mirtle.

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 ivie buds, With Coral clasps, and Amber studs And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my Love.

The Shepherds Swains shal dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my Love_.

_Via_. Trust me Master, it is a choice Song, and sweetly sung by honest _Maudlin_: Ile bestow Sir _Thomas Overbury's_ Milk maids wish upon her, _That she may dye in the Spring, and have good store of flowers stuck round about her winding sheet_.

The Milk maids mothers answer.

_If all the world and love were young, And truth in every Shepherds 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, And_ Philomel _becometh dumb, The Rest complains of cares to come.

The Flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yeilds A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancies spring, but sorrows fall.

Thy gowns, thy shooes, 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 Ivie buds, Thy Coral clasps and Amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy Love.

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

_Pisc_. Well sung, good woman, I thank you, I'l give you another dish of fish one of these dayes, and then beg another Song of you. Come Scholer, let Maudlin alone, do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look, yonder comes my Hostis to cal us to supper. How now? is my brother _Peter_ come?