THE COMPLETE ANGLER 85 



But, Oh I the green sickness 

 Soon changed her likeness, 

 And all her beauty did fail. 

 But 'tis not so 

 With those that go 

 Through frost and snow, 

 As all men know, 

 And carry the milking-pail. 



Pise. Well sung, good woman ; I thank you. I'll 

 give you another dish of fish one of these days, and then 

 beg another song of you. Come, scholar, let Maudlin 

 alone ; do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look, yonder 

 comes mine hostess, to call us to supper. How now ? 

 Is my brother Peter come ? 



HOST. Yes, and a friend with him ; they are both 

 glad to hear that you are in these parts, and long to see 

 you, and long to be at supper, for they be very hungry. 



