152 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I. 



Mother. Well ! I have done my song. But stay, 

 honest angler ! for I will make Maudlin to sing you one 

 short song more. Maudlin ! sing that song that you 

 sung last night, when young Coridon the shepherd 

 played so purely on his oaten pipe, to you and your 

 cousin Betty. 



Maud. I will, mother! 



I married a wife of late, 

 The more's my unhappy fate : 

 I married her for love, 

 As my fancy did me move, 

 And not for a worldly estate. 



But oh ! the green sickness 

 Soon changed her likeness ; 

 And all her beauty did fail. 

 But 'tis not so, 

 With those that go, 

 Thro* 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 ? 



Hostess. 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. 



* The judgment of the author in this part of the dialogue is well worth 

 noting. We may observe, that the interlocutors are Piscator and the Milk- 

 ivoman, and that the daughter, except when she sings, and signifies her obe- 

 dience to her mother in a speech of three words, is silent. It is pretty clear 

 that Senator, after the second song charmed perhaps with the maidenly 

 innocence, and probably beauty, of the young woman ; for we are told that 

 nhe is handsome offers to kiss her ; and that Piscator, an elder and more 

 discreet man, checks him, lest he should offend her by too great familiarity. 

 Such is the decorum observable in this elegant work* 



