CHAP. II.] THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 249 



VIAT. Why, according to the French proverb, and 't is a 

 good one among a great many of worse sense and sound that 

 language abounds in, Ce que Dieu garde, est Men garde. They 

 whom God takes care of are in safe protection ; but, let me tell 

 you, I would not ride over it for a thousand pounds, nor fall 

 off it for two ; and yet I think I dare venture on foot, though 

 if you were not by to laugh at me, I should do it on all four. 



Pise. Well, Sir, your mirth becomes you, and I am glad to 

 see you safe over ; and now you are welcome into Stafford- 

 shire. 



VIAT. How, Staffordshire ! What do I there trow ? There 

 is not a word of Staffordshire in all my direction. 



Pise. You see you are betrayed into it ; but it shall be in 

 order to something that will make amends ; and 't is but an ill 

 mile or two out of your way. 



VIAT. I believe all things, Sir, and doubt nothing. Is this 

 your beloved river Dove? 'T is clear and swift, indeed, but 

 a very little one. 



Pise. You see it here at the worst ; we shall come to it anon 

 again after two miles riding, and so near as to lie upon the 

 very banks. 



VIAT. Would we were there once ! But I hope we have no 

 more of these Alps to pass over. 



Pise. No, no, Sir, only this ascent before you, which you 

 see is not very uneasy; and then you will no more quarrel 

 with your way. 



VIAT. Well, if ever I come to London, of which many a 

 man there, if he were in my place would make a question, I 

 will sit down and write my travels ; and, like Tom Coriate, 

 print them at my own charge. Pray what do you call this hill 

 we come down ? 



Pise. We call it Hanson Toot. 



VIAT. Why, farewell Hanson Toot ! I '11 no more on thee : 

 I '11 go twenty miles about first. Pun ! I sweat, that my shirt 

 sticks to my back. 



