“THE FISHERMAN’S DREAM” 135 
“So with both hands I strained, and had a sore tussle for 
the monster. How was I ever to land so big a fish with hooks 
all too slim? Then, just to remind him he was hooked, I 
gently pricked him, pricked, and slackened ; and as he did not 
run, I took in line.! 
“My toil was ended with the sight of my prize. I drew up 
a golden fish, lo, you! a fish all plated thick with gold. Then 
fear took hold of me lest he might be some fish beloved of 
Poseidon, or perchance some jewel of the sea-grey Amphitrite. 
Gently I unhooked him, lest even the hooks should retain 
some of the gold of his mouth. ThenI dragged him ashore with 
the ropes,? and swore that never again would I set foot on sea, 
but abide on land and lord it over the gold. 
‘‘This was what awakened me, but for the rest set thy 
mind to it, my friend, for I am in dismay about the oath I 
swore.” 
The Friend: ‘‘ Nay, never fear, thou art no more sworn 
1 This is but one instance of anachronistic translation, or the use of terms, 
which, if true of our modern line, are inapplicable to ancient angling, for if, 
as I have shown in the Introduction, all ancient angling was with a tight line, 
the operation translated as ‘‘I took in line’’ should rather be rendered “ I 
tightened on him.”’ The alternation of easing and tightening is a well-known 
device. It is a question of the degree of strain involved. If you want to keep 
a big fish quiet in a confined space or in difficult circumstances, you can gene- 
rally do so by keeping a very light strain on him, so that, though the line is 
never absolutely slack, he hardly knows that he is hooked and is often landed 
without the angler having to yield a foot of his line. Thus the roach-fisher 
without a reel sometimes lands a 4 lb. chub or bream with a foot link of single 
hair, entirely by this method of suaviter in modo. Thete seems no particular 
reason why Asphalion should not have been cognisant of these secrets, which 
three lines in James Thomson’s The Seasons, although the fight is, I admit, 
with a running line, fairly disclose. 
“‘ With yielding hand 
That feels him still, yet to his furious course 
Gives way, you, now retiring, following now 
Across the stream, exhaust his idle rage.” 
2 To a practical angler this passage is not clear. How is it possible, after 
you have taken out the hook (the only apparent method of holding the big 
fish), to fasten round him ropes and drag him ashore, unless he were beached 
high and dry? Of this we have no evidence beyond dyelAxuoa, if used here in 
its nautical sense “to haul up high and dry.” The readings suggested by 
Wordsworth and others are numerous, but none seem quite satisfactory, even 
those preferred by J. M. Edmonds, The Greek Bucolic Poets, London, 1912, 
and R. J. Cholmeley, op. cit. Perhaps the least improbable text is that given 
by E. Hiller (Leipzig, 1881), kat rbv uiv alorevoa Karas txev hrepdray, “ and 
I really believed that I had him fairly landed.” This has the positive 
merit of sticking close to the manuscript reading, and the negative merit of 
refusing to admit the absurd ‘ ropes.’ 
