COMPLETE ANGLER. 



281 



But, seeing thou obdurate art, 

 And wiit no pity to me show, 



Because from thee I did depart, 

 And left unpaid what I did owe, 



I must content myself to take 



What lot thou wilt with me partake. 



And, like one being in a trance, 

 A multitude of ugly fiends 



About this woeful prince did dance, 

 No help he had of any friends ; 



His body then they took away, 



And no man knew his dying day. 



P. 84. Commendation of ale. The following old ballad, which is 

 printed in "A ryght pithy, pleasaunt, and merie comedie : Intytuled 

 Gammer Gurton's Nedle" (London, 1575), by Bishop Still, was probably 

 well known to Walton : 



I CANNOT eate but lytle meate, 



My stomacke is not good ; 

 But -tire I thinke that I can drynke 



With him that weares a hood. 

 Though I go bare take ye no care, 



I am nothinge a colde ; 

 I stuff my skyn so full within, 

 Of joly good ale and olde. 



ke and side go bare, go bare, 



Booth foote and hande go colde : 



But belly, God sende thee good ale 



inoughe, 

 Whether it be new or olde. 



I lone no rost, but a nut-browne toste, 



And a crab * laid in the fyre : 



A little breade shall do me stead, 



Much breade I do not desyre. 



: nor snow, nor winde I trowe, 

 Can luirte nice if I wolde, 



wrapt, and throwly lapt, 



:ile and olde. 

 I'..u:ke and side, &c. 



P. 85. The following are the songs mentioned by Walton as having 

 been composed by Mr William Basse : 



And Tyb my wyfe, that as her lyfe, 



Loueth well good a!e to seeke, 

 Full oft drynkes shee, tyil ye may see 



The teares run downe her cheeke : 

 Then doth she trowle to me the bowle, 



Euen as a mault-worm shuld ; 

 And sayth, sweete hart, I tooke my part 



Of this joly good ale and olde. 

 Backe and side, &c. 



Now let them drynke tyll they nod and 



winke, 



Even as good felowes shoulde doe : 

 They shall not mysse to have the blisse, 



Good ale doth bringe men to. 

 And all poore scules that have scowred 



boules 



Or have them lustely trolde, 

 God saue the lyues of them and their 



wyues, 



Whether they be yonge or olde. 

 Backe and side, &c. 



THE HUNTER IN HIS CAREER. 



(From a Collection of Old Ballads, ed. 1725, vol. iii. p. 196.) 



LONG ere the mom 



Expects the return 

 Of Apollo from th' Ocean Queen : 



Before the creak 



Of the crow, and the break 

 Of the day in the welkin seen ; 



Mounted he'd hallow. 



And cheerfully follow, 

 To the chase with his bugle clear ; 



Echo doth lie make, 



And the mountains shake, 

 Witli the thunder of his career. 



Now bonny Bay 



In his foine waxeth gray, 

 Dapp e-grey waxeth bay in his blood 



Wh te Lilly stops, 



With the scent in her chaps 

 And Black Lady makes it good ; 



Poor silly Wat, 



In this wretched state, 

 Forgets these delights for to hear ; 



Nimbly she bounds 



From the cry of the hounds, 

 And the music of their career. 



Hills with the heat 



Of the gallopers sweat, 

 Reviving their frozen tops ; 



The dale's purple flowers, 



That drop from the showers, 

 That down from the rowels drops : 



Swains their repast 



And strangers their haste 

 Neglect, when the horns they do hear ; 



To see a fleet 



Pack of hounds in a sheet, 

 And the hunter in his career. 



Thus he careers 



Over heaths, over meers, 

 Over deeps, over downs, over clay ; 



Till he hath won 



The noon from the morn, 

 And the evening from the day : 



His sport then he ends, 



And joyfully wends 

 Home again to his cottage, where 



Franklv he feasts 



Himself and his guests, 

 And carouses in his career. 



Apple. 



