Part 10

Cor. And then mine shall be the praise of a Country mans life: What will the rest sing of?

Pet. I wil promise you I wil sing another Song in praise of Angling, to-morrow night, for we wil not part till then, but fish to morrow, and sup together, and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his business.

Viat. 'Tis a match, and I wil provide you a Song or a Ketch against then too, that shal give some addition of mirth to the company; for we wil be merrie.

Pisc. 'Tis a match my masters; lets ev'n say Grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to wet our whistles, and so sing away all sad thoughts.

Come on my masters, who begins? I think it is best to draw cuts and avoid contention.

Pet. It is a match. Look, the shortest Cut fals to Coridon.

Cor. Well then, I wil begin; for I hate contention.

CORIDONS Song.

Oh the sweet contentment The country man doth find! high trolollie laliloe high trolollie lee, That quiet contemplation Possesseth all my mind: Then care away, and wend along with me.

For Courts are full of flattery, As hath too oft been tri'd; high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, The City full of wantonness, and both are full of pride: Then care away, and wend along with me.

But oh the honest countryman Speaks truly from his heart, high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, His pride is in his Tillage, his Horses and his Cart: Then care away, and wend along with me.

Our clothing is good sheep skins Gray russet for our wives, high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee. 'Tis warmth and not gay clothing that doth prolong our lives: Then care away, and wend along with me,

The ploughman, though he labor hard, Yet on the Holy-day, high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, No Emperor so merrily does pass his time away: Then care away, and wend along with me.

To recompence our Tillage, The Heavens afford us showrs; high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, And for our sweet refreshments the earth affords us bowers: Then care away, &c.

The Cuckoe and the Nightingale full merrily do sing, high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, And with their pleasant roundelayes bid welcome to the Spring: Then care away, and wend along with me.

This is not half the happiness the Country man injoyes; high trolollie lollie loe high trolollie lee, Though others think they have as much yet he that says so lies: Then come away, turn County man with me_.

Pisc. Well sung Coridon, this Song was sung with mettle, and it was choicely fitted to the occasion; I shall love you for it as long as I know you: I would you were a brother of the Angle, for a companion that is cheerful and free from swearing and scurrilous discourse, is worth gold. I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon one another next morning; nor men (that cannot wel bear it) to repent the money they spend when they be warmed with drink: and take this for a rule, you may pick out such times and such companies, that you may make your selves merrier for a little then a great deal of money; for 'Tis the company and not the charge that makes the feast: and such a companion you prove, I thank you for it.

But I will not complement you out of the debt that I owe you, and therefore I will begin my Song, and wish it may be as well liked.

The ANGLERS Song.

As inward love breeds outward talk, The Hound some praise, and some the Hawk, Some better pleas'd with private sport, Use Tenis, some a Mistris _court: But these delights I neither wish, Nor envy, while I freely fish.

Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride Who hauks, lures oft both far & wide; Who uses games, may often prove A loser; but who fals in love, Is fettered in fond Cupids snare: My Angle breeds me no such care.

Of Recreation there is none So free as fishing is alone; All other pastimes do no less Then mind and body both possess; My hand alone my work can do, So I can fish and study too.

I care not, I, to fish in seas, Fresh rivers best my mind do please, Whose sweet calm course I contemplate; And seek in life to imitate; In civil bounds I fain would keep, And for my past offences weep.

And when the timerous Trout I wait To take, and he devours my bait, How poor a thing sometimes I find Will captivate a greedy mind: And when none bite, I praise the wise, Whom vain alurements ne're surprise.

But yet though while I fish, I fast, I make good fortune my repast, And there unto my friend invite, In whom I more then that delight: Who is more welcome to my dish, Then to my Angle was my fish.

As well content no prize to take As use of taken prize to make; For so our Lord was pleased when He Fishers made Fishers of men; Where (which is in no other game) A man may fish and praise his name.

The first men that our Saviour dear Did chuse to wait upon him here, Blest Fishers were; and fish the last Food was, that he on earth did taste. I therefore strive to follow those, Whom he to follow him hath chose. W.B.

Cor. Well sung brother, you have paid your debt in good coyn, we Anglers are all beholding to the good man that made this Song. Come Hostis, give us more Ale and lets drink to him.