THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 91 



Coridon. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well, and tastes 

 well : I thank you for it, and so doth my friend Peter, or else 

 he is to blame. 



Peter. Yes, and so I do ; we all thank you : and when we 

 have supped, I will get my friend Coridon to sing you a song 

 for requital. 



Coridon. I will sing a song, if any body will sing another : 

 else, to be plain with you, I will sing none. I am none of those 

 that sing for meat, but for company: I say, " 'Tis merry in 

 hall, when men sing all."* 



Piscator. I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately 

 made, at my request, by Mr William Basse ; one that had made 

 the choice songs of the Hunter in his Career, and of Tom of 

 Bedlam, f and many others of note ; and this, that I will sing, 

 is in praise of angling. 



Coridon. And then mine shall be the praise of a country- 

 man's life. What will the rest sing of ? 



Peter. I will promise you, I will sing another song in praise 

 of angling to-morrow night ; for we will not part till then, but 

 fish to-morrow, and sup together ; and the next day every 

 man leave fishing, and fall to his business. 



Venator. 'Tis a match; and I will provide you a song or a 

 catch against then, too, which shall give some addition of mirth 

 to the company ; for we will be civil, and as merry as beggars. 



Piscator. 'Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say grace, 

 and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to whet our whistles, 

 and so sing away all sad thoughts. 



Come on, my masters, who begins ? I think it is best to 

 draw cuts, and avoid contention. 



Peter. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to Coridon. 



Coridon. Well then, I will begin, for I hate contention. 



CORIDON'S SONG. 



OH, the sweet contentment 

 The countryman doth find ! 



Heigh trolollie lollie loe, 



Heigh trolollie lollie lee. 

 That quiet contemplation 

 Possesseth all my mind ; 



Then care away, 



And wend along with me. 



* Parody on the adage : 



" It's merry in hall, 



When beards wag all." t. e. when all are eating. 



t This song, beginning " Forth from my sad and darksome cell," with 

 the music to it, set by Hen. Lawes, is printed in a book, entitled Choice 

 Ayres, Songs, and Dialogues, to sine to the Theorbo, Lute, and Bast Viol, 

 folio, 1675; and in Playford's Antidote against Melancholy, 8vo. 1669; also 

 in Dr Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 357. 



