Venator. Sir, you have angled me on with much pleasure to the Thatched House, for I thought we had three miles of it. Let us drink a civil cup to all lovers of angling, of which number I am now willing to count myself, and if you will but meet me to-morrow at the time and place appointed, we two will do nothing but talk of fish and fishing.
Piscator. 'Tis a match, sir; I will not fail you, God willing, to be at Amwell Hill to-morrow before sun-rising.
Master and Pupil
Piscator. Sir, I am right glad to meet you. Come, honest Venator, let us be gone; I long to be doing.
Venator. Well, let's to your sport of angling.
Piscator. With all my heart. But we are not yet come to a likely place. Let us walk on. But let us first to an honest alehouse, where my hostess can give us a cup of her best drink.
Seneca says that the ancients were so curious in the newness of their fish, that they usually did keep them living in glass-bottles in their dining-rooms, and did glory much in the entertaining of their friends, to have the fish taken from under their tables alive that was instantly to be fed upon. Our hostess shall dress us a trout, that we shall presently catch, and we, with brother Peter and Goridon, will sup on him here this same evening.
Venator. And now to our sport.
Piscator. This is not a likely place for a trout; the sun is too high. But there lie upon the top of the water twenty Chub. Sir, here is a trial of my skill! I'll catch only one, and he shall be the big one, that has some bruise upon his tail.
Venator. I'll sit down and hope well; because you seem so confident.
Piscator. Look you, sir! The very one! Oh, 'tis a great logger-headed Chub! I'll warrant he will make a good dish of meat.
Under that broad beech tree yonder, I sat down when I was last a-fishing; and the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention with the echo that lives in a hollow near the brow of that primrose-hill. There I sat viewing the silver stream slide away, and the lambs sporting harmlessly. And as I sat, these sights so possessed my soul, that I thought as the poet hath it:
"I was for that time lifted above earth;
And possess'd joys not promised at my birth."
But, let us further on; and we will try for a Trout. 'Tis now past five of the clock.
Venator. I have a bite! Oh me! He has broke all; and a good hook lost! But I have no fortune! Sure yours is a better rod and tackling.
Piscator. Nay, then, take mine, and I will fish with yours. Look you, scholar, I have another. I pray, put that net under him, but touch not my line. Well done, scholar, I thank you.
And now, having three brace of Trouts, I will tell you a tale as we walk back to our hostess.
A preacher that was to procure the approbation of a parish got from a fellow preacher the copy of a sermon that was preached with great commendation by him that composed it; and though the borrower preached it, word for word, yet it was utterly disliked; and on complaining to the lender of it, was thus answered: "I lent you indeed my fiddle, but not my fiddlestick; for you are to know, everyone cannot make music with my words, which are fitted for my own mouth." And though I lend you my very rod and tacklings, yet you have not my fiddlestick, that is, the skill wherewith I guide it.
Venator. Master, you spoke very true. Yonder comes mine hostess to call us to supper; and when we have supped we will sing songs which shall give some addition of mirth to the company.
Piscator. And so say I; for to-morrow we meet again up the water towards Waltham.
Fish of English Streams
Piscator. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, "Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did"; and so, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.
And when I see how pleasantly that meadow looks; and the earth smells so sweetly too; I think of them as Charles the Emperor did of the City of Florence; "that they were too pleasant to be looked on, but on holidays."
To speak of fishes; the Salmon is accounted the king of fresh-water fish. He breeds in the rivers in the month of August, and then hastes to the sea before winter; where he recovers his strength and comes the next summer to the same river; for like persons of riches, he has his summer and winter house, to spend his life in, which is, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed, not above ten years.
The Pike, the tyrant of the fresh-waters, is said to be the longest-lived of any fresh-water fish, but not usually above forty years. Gesner relates of a man watering his mule in a pond, where the Pike had devoured all the fish, had the Pike bite his mule's lips; to which he hung so fast, the mule did draw him out of the water. And this same Gesner observes, that a maid in Poland washing clothes in a pond, had a Pike bite her by the foot. I have told you who relate these things; and shall conclude by telling you, what a wise-man hath observed: "It is a hard thing to persuade the belly, because it has no ears."
Besides being an eater of great voracity, the Pike is observed to be a solitary, melancholy and a bold fish. When he is dressed with a goodly, rich sauce, and oysters, this dish of meat is too good for any man, but an angler, or a very honest man.
The Carp, that hath only lately been naturalised in England, is said to be the queen of rivers, and will grow to a very great bigness; I have heard, much above a yard long.
The stately Bream, and the Tench, that physician of fishes, love best to live in ponds. In every Tench's head are two little stones which physicians make great use of. Rondeletius says, at his being in Rome, he saw a great cure done by applying a Tench to the feet of a sick man.
But I will not meddle more with that; there are too many meddlers in physic and divinity that think fit to meddle with hidden secrets and so bring destruction to their followers.
The Perch is a bold, biting fish, and carries his teeth in his mouth; and to affright the Pike and save himself he will set up his fins, like as a turkey-cock will set up his tail. If there be twenty or forty in a hole, they may be catched one after the other, at one standing; they being, like the wicked of this world, not afraid, though their fellows and companions perish in their sight.
And now I think best to rest myself, for I have almost spent my spirits with talking.
Venator. Nay, good master, one fish more! For it rains yet; you know our angles are like money put to usury; they may thrive, though we sit still. Come, the other fish, good master!
Piscator. But shall I nothing from you, that seem to have both a good memory and a cheerful spirit?
Venator. Yes, master; I will speak you a copy of verses that allude to rivers and fishing:
Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove;
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Most amorously to thee will swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.