ur lodging. Look you
Scholer, thereabout we shall have a bit presently, or not at all: Have
with you (Sir!) on my word I have him. Oh it is a great logger-headed
_Chub_: Come, hang him upon that Willow twig, and let's be going. But
turn out of the way a little, good Scholer, towards yonder high hedg:
We'l sit whilst this showr falls so gently upon the teeming earth, and
gives a sweeter smel to the lovely flowers that adorn the verdant
Meadows.

Look, under that broad _Beech tree_ I sate down when I was last this
way a fishing, and the birds in the adjoining Grove seemed to have a
friendly contention with an Echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a
hollow cave, near to the brow of that Primrose hil; there I sate
viewing the Silver streams glide silently towards their center, the
tempestuous Sea, yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots, and pibble
stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into some: and
sometimes viewing the harmless Lambs, some leaping securely in the cool
shade, whilst others sported themselvs in the cheerful Sun; and others
were craving comfort from the swolne Udders of their bleating Dams. As
I thus sate, these and other sighs had so fully possest my soul, that I
thought as the Poet has happily exprest it:

I was for that time lifted above earth;
And possest joyes not promis'd in my birth.

As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second
pleasure entertained me, 'twas a handsome Milk-maid, that had cast away
all care, and sung like a _Nightingale_; her voice was good, and the
Ditty fitted for it; 'twas that smooth Song which was made by _Kit
Marlow_, now at least fifty years ago; and the Milk maid's mother sung
an answer to it, which was made by Sir _Walter Raleigh_ in his younger
days.

They were old fashioned Poetry, but choicely good, I think much better
then that now in fashion in this Critical age. Look yonder, on my word,
yonder they be both a milking again: I will give her the _Chub_, and
persuade them to sing those two songs to us.

_Pisc._ God speed, good woman, I have been a-fishing, and am going to
_Bleak Hall_ to my bed, and having caught more fish then will sup my
self and friend, will bestow this upon you and your daughter for I use
to sell none.

_Milkw._ Marry, God requite you Sir, and we'l eat it cheerfully: will
you drink a draught of red Cow's milk?

_Pisc._ No, I thank you: but I pray do us a courtesie that shal stand
you and your daughter in no