88 The Complete Angler 



So, the cold humour breeds the Salamander, 

 Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander, 

 With child with hundred winters, with her touch 

 Quencheth the fire, tho' glowing ne'er so much. 



So of the fire, in burning furnace, springs 

 The fly Pyrausta with the flaming wings : 

 Without the fire, it dies : within it joys, 

 Living in that which each thing else destroys. 



So, slow Bootes underneath him sees, 

 In th' icy isles, those goslings hatch'd of trees ; 

 Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water, 

 Are turn'd, they say, to living fowls soon after. 



So, rotten sides of broken ships do change 

 To barnacles. O transformation strange 1 

 'Twas first a green tree ; then, a gallant hull ; 

 Lately a mushroom ; now, a flying gull. 



VENATOR. O my good master, this morning- 

 walk has been spent to my great pleasure and 

 wonder : but, I pray, when shall I have your direc- 

 tion how to make artificial flies, like to those that 

 the Trout loves best ; and, also, how to use them ? 



PlSCATOR. My honest scholar, it is now past five 

 of the clock: we will fish till nine; and then go to 

 breakfast. Go you to yonder sycamore-tree, and 

 hide your bottle of drink under the hollow root of 

 it ; for about that time, and in that place, we will 

 make a brave breakfast with a piece of powdered 

 beef, and a radish or two, that I have in my fish- 

 bag : we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest, 

 wholesome hungry breakfast. And I will then 

 give you direction for the making and using of your 

 flies : and in the meantime, there is your rod and 

 line ; and my advice is, that you fish as you see me 

 do, and let's try which can catch the first fish. 



VENATOR. I thank you, master. I will observe 

 and practise your direction as far as I am able. 



PlSCATOR. Look you, scholar; you see I have 

 hold of a good fish : I now see it is a Trout. I 



