"THE FISHERMAN'S DREAM" 135 



" So with both hands I strained, and had a sore tussle for 

 the monster. How was I ever to land so big a fish with hooks 

 all too slim ? Then, just to remind him he was hooked, I 

 gently pricked him, pricked, and slackened ; and as he did not 

 run, I took in line. 1 



" My toil was ended with the sight of my prize. I drew up 

 a golden fish, lo, you ! a fish all plated thick with gold. Then 

 fear took hold of me lest he might be some fish beloved of 

 Poseidon, or perchance some jewel of the sea-grey Amphitrite. 

 Gently I unhooked him, lest even the hooks should retain 

 some of the gold of his mouth. Then I dragged him ashore with 

 the ropes, 2 and swore that never again would I set foot on sea, 

 but abide on land and lord it over the gold. 



" This was what awakened me, but for the rest set thy 

 mind to it, my friend, for I am in dismay about the oath I 

 swore." 



The Friend: "Nay, never fear, thou art no more sworn 



^ This is but one instance of anachronistic translation, or the use of terms, 

 which, if true of our modern Hne, are inapplicable to ancient angling, for if, 

 as I have shown in the Introduction, all ancient anghng was with a tight line, 

 the operation translated as " I took in line " should rather be rendered " I 

 tightened on him." The alternation of easing and tightening is a well-known 

 device. It is a question of the degree of strain involved. If you want to keep 

 a big fish quiet in a confined space or in difficult circumstances, you can gene- 

 rally do so by keeping a very light strain on him, so that, though the line is 

 never absolutely slack, he hardly knows that he is hooked and is often landed 

 without the angler having to yield a foot of his hne. Thus the roach-fisher 

 without a reel sometimes lands a 4 lb. chub or bream with a foot link of single 

 hair, entirely by this method of suaviter in modo. There seems no particular 

 reason why Asphahon should not have been cognisant of these secrets, which 

 three lines in James Thomson's The Seasons, although the fight is, I admit, 

 with a running line, fairly disclose. 



" With yielding hand 



That feels him still, yet to his furious course 



Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 



Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage." 



2 To a practical angler this passage is not clear. How is it possible, after 

 you have taken out the hook (the only apparent method of holding tlie big 

 fish), to fasten round him ropes and drag him ashore, unless he were beached 

 high and dry ? Of this we have no evidence beyond a.vil\Kvaa, if used here in 

 its nautical sense " to haul up high and dry." The readings suggested by 

 Wordsworth and others are numerous, but none seem quite satisfactory, even 

 those preferred by J. M. Edmonds, The Greek Bucolic Poets, London, 1912, 

 and R. J. Cholmeley, op. cit. Perhaps the least improbable text is that given 

 by E. Hiller (Leipzig, 1881), Kal -rhv /xtu -rrla-rfva-a KaKws exf Vireipciraf, " and 

 I really beheved that I had him fairly landed." This has the positive 

 merit of sticking close to the manuscript reading, and the negative merit of 

 refusing to admit the absurd ' ropes.' 



