132 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



MOTHER. Well ! I have done my song. But stay, honest 

 anglers ; for I will make Maudlin to sing you one short 

 song more. Maudlin ! sing that song that you sang 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 't is not so 

 With those that go 

 Through frost and snow, 

 As all men know, 

 And carry the milking-pail. 



PlSC. Well sung, good woman ; I thank you. I '11 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 ? 



HOST. 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, 



