The Third Day 69 



VENATOR. A match, good master, let's go Vas 

 that house, for the linen looks white, and smells Oat 

 lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that i 

 smell so. Let's be going, good master, for I am ' 

 hungry again with fishing. 



PlSCATOR. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I 

 caught my last Trout with a worm ; now I will put 

 on a minnow, ari8 try a quarter of an hour about 

 yonder trees for another ; and, so, walk towards our 

 lodging. Look you, scholar, thereabout we shall 

 have a bite presently, or not at all. Have with you, 

 Sir: o' my word I have hold of 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 scholar! toward yonder 

 high honeysuckle hedge; there we'll sit and sing, 

 whilst this shower falls so gently upon the teeming 

 earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell to the lovely 

 flowers that adorn these verdant meadows. 



Look ! under that broad beech-tree I sat down, 

 when I was last this way a-fishing ; 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 tree near to the brow of that 

 primrose-hill. There I sat viewing the silver streams 

 glide silently towards their centre, the tempestuous 

 sea ; yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots and 

 pebble-stones, which broke their waves, and turned 

 them into foam ; and sometimes I beguiled time by 

 viewing the harmless lambs ; some leaping securely 

 in the cool shade, whilst others sported themselves 

 in the cheerful sun ; and saw others craving comfort 

 from the swollen udders of their bleating dams. As 

 I thus sat, these and other sights had so fully possest 

 my soul with content, that I thought, as the poet 

 has happily exprest it, 



I was for that time lifted above earth ; 

 And possest joys not promis'd in my birth. 



