Iviii LIFE OF TZAAK WALTON. [1655, 



and tiresome," asks his scholar if he has nothing to relieve it ? 

 " Shall I," he demands, " have nothing from you that seem to 

 have both a good memory and a cheerful spirit ? " Venator offers 

 to repeat Dr Donne's verses, " Come live with me and be my 

 love : " and it is evident that Walton was aware of the general 

 ruggedness and want of harmony of Donne's poems, for he makes 

 Venator say, " I will speak you a copy of verses that were made 

 by Dr Donne, and made to show the world that he could make 

 soft and smooth verses, when he thought them fit and worth his 

 labour ; and I love them the better because they allude to rivers, 

 and fish, and fishing." 



As it " rains still," and because the angles were, as Venator had 

 remarked, "as money put to use, that thrive when we play," 

 Piscator says he will requite his scholar for these verses by some 

 observations on the eel, which are followed by others on the 

 barbel. They then take up their rods, and Piscator proposes that 

 they shall proceed " towards their lodging, drink a draught of red 

 cow's milk as they go, and give pretty Maudlin and her mother a 

 brace of trouts for their supper." After meeting the milk-women, 

 Piscator describes the method of fishing for gudgeon ; but their 

 conversation is interrupted by Peter and Coridon ; and Piscator 

 promises that, as he and his scholar fish and walk the next day 

 towards London, he will tell him anything which he might have 

 forgotten. The party compare their success, but Peter says that 

 during the rain he and Coridon had taken shelter in an alehouse, 

 where they played at shovel-board half the day. The evening was 

 spent like the preceding ; and after supper they had what Venator 

 calls " a gentle touch at singing and drinking, but the last with 

 moderation." Piscator's song, beginning " Oh, the gallant fisher's 

 life," was, it appears, partly^ composed by Walton ; for Venator 

 says, " Gentlemen, my master left me alone for an hour this day, 

 and I verily believe he retired himself from talking with me, that 

 he might be so perfect in this song; was it not, master?" to 

 which Piscator replies, " Yes, indeed, for it is many years since I 

 learned it, and having forgotten a part of it, I was forced to patch 

 it up by the help of my own invention, who am not excellent at 

 poetry, as my part of the song may testify." 



Venator's remarks on the blessing of a contented mind and on 

 the beauties of nature are peculiarly pleasing, and are a faithful 

 reflection of Walton's disposition : " But, Master, first let me tell 

 you, that that very hour which you were absent from me, I sat 

 down under a willow-tree by the water-side, and considered what 



