Wit's Trenchmour, In a conference had betwixt a Scholar and an Angler.  
❧ Written by Nich. Breton, Gentleman.  
AT LONDON, Printed by I. robart's for N. Ling, and are to be sold at his shop at the West door of Paul's Church. 1597.   

To the right Worshipful and noble minded, the favourer of learning and nourisher of virtue, William Harbert of the Red Castle in Mountgombry-shiere, Esquire, the highest power of the heavens give the happiness of much honour.  
THE humble service that in bounden duty I do owe unto your honourable house, with the true report that I have often heard of the nobleness of your own spirit, as well in regard of the learned, as favour of the virtuous, hath made me presume to adventure the pardon of your discretion, in offering to your patience a precedent of so simple a wit, as dancing a Trenchmour in the shadow of understanding, dares not come into the light without the comfort of your good countenance: to make a large gate to a little Town, were but a mockery to a travailer, & no praise to the builder: therefore referring to your good leisure the reading of a mad discourse, and to the happiness of your good favour the commandment of my better service, I take my leave in all humbleness.  
Your Worship's ready at command, Nich. Breton.   

To the Reader.  
HE that will think in writing to please all humours, must have more variety of invention than one wit can hit on; for myself, I would be glad to please the best spirits, for other, I wish them more perfection of understanding than lavishness of speech, and myself but the happiness to be out of the censure of the unwise, which sith I cannot be, putting my labours to the view of the world, where all minds are not of one mould, nor all spirits of a like virtue, I will hope well of the best, and keep patience for the other; and so loath to make a long entry to a little house, I will leave to your leisures to read, & your courtesies to like, of such matter as you shall find handled, betwixt an Angler and a Scholar; how their talk came to light, & what you may gather of their discourse. And so in haste, from my lodging, I rest for this time, and always as I find cause:  
Your loving friend, N. B.   

The Anglers conference with the Scholar.  
AMong the walks of the weary, where liberty and air, are the best comforts of the forlorn spirits of the world, it was the hap of a poor Scholar, (who feeding his imagination with the persuasions of contemplation, making his passage down a falling piece of ground, somewhat near unto a little hill, fast by a river side, whose streams seemed to slide along the banks of a lower platform) to espy a humane creature, standing upright and holding out his arm over the water, whom approaching unto somewhat near, and finding to be an Angler, he saluted in this manner: True figure of patience, no offence to your conceit, how might it far with your cold exercise? The Fisherman (as it might appear by his answer) being better trained in the variety of understanding than could be contained within the compass of a casting Net, upon the sudden made him this reply: shadow of intelligence, to stay your further eloquence, when fools gape for flies, mad men may go a fishing.  
Oh Sir (quoth the Scholar) I pray you enter not into choler, with him that meant not to trouble your better humour: but rather do me the favour to instruct me in the reason, that might lead you into this looking labour, then to take me up for halting ere I come at my journeys end: I promise you I was half afraid, that Ovid's tales would have fallen out true, and that Narcissus, or some of his kindred, had been so in love with their own shadow, that he could not go from the River side: but coming near, and finding the deceit of my imagination, confessing my folly, I am to crave your kindness in a little conference, touching the profit of this cold pleasure, and what may be the fish that you angle for with a fly.  
Sir quoth the fisherman, to turn wit into choler, is such a piece of new Alkamie, as I never found written in the true rules of Philosophy: and to tell truth, as I remember when I went to the school of understanding, I found this a sentence of discretion: It is but a trifling of wit, to be troubling of humours: but sith you crave a favourable instruction in a matter of small importance, being persuaded that your haste is not great, nor affairs weighty, if you will sit down and bear me company, we will feed the air with a little breath. My good friend, quoth the Scholar, (for so I would be glad to find you) to confess a truth, neither is my haste such, but I may stay well, if not too long to your liking, neither my affairs of such import, but that I may put them of for a time, to enjoy the benefit of your good company. Then sir quoth the Fisherman, let me tell you, I sit here as you see angling for a fish, and my bait a fly: for little fishes, as Bleakes, roaches, and such like, a fly will serve the turn: but for greater fishes, we must find out greater baits: and with these flies we catch such small fry, as serve to bait our hooks for greater fishes. Now, if you can apply this figure to a good sense, I will hold you for a good scholar in ciphering.  
I cannot tell (quoth the Scholar,) how you would I should interpret it, but this I conceive of it, that a child may be won with an apple, when a Costermonger will not be pleased without a whole Orchard. I perceive quoth the Angler, you are of Adam's race, you think so much upon the apple, that poisoned him & all his posterity, but if one should examine your conscience, do you not mean the golden apple? Which quoth the scholar? that which was offered to juno, Pallas, and Venus. I think it to be but a mere jest, for surely in these days, and in such Countries as I have passed my travail in, I never saw any creatures so angelical, but they had spirits so terrestrial, that if a golden apple should be offered, it would be caught ere it could be thought of: and therefore I pray you satisfy yourself with this answer to your first figure, and so to other, as it will fall out. The Angler holding himself contented with this construction of his conceit, followed on with his speech in this manner. Some fishes there are that keep altogether in the deep, & they we must angle for with a worm, now to this worm we must have a line of hair, as near as we can of such a colour, as may best please the eye of the fish to play with. Now to this line we must have a plummet, which must guide the bait to the bottom, which drawing now and then up and down, at length so pleaseth the fish, as venturing upon the bait, answers the hope of our labour. Now what think you of this figure? Truly Sir, quoth the Scholar, I think that when wit is led away with humours, reason may be entangled in repentance, and the pleasing of the eye, is such a plague to the heart, that the worm of conscience, brings ignorance to destruction, while in the Sea of iniquity, the devil angleth for his dinner.  
The Fisherman smiling at this answer, fell to him with another piece of angling, in this manner. We have, quoth he, a kind of fly made only of silk, which we make our bait for a fish called a Trout, with which we often deceive the foolish thing, as well as with the fly itself. Alas sir quoth the scholar, this shows but the vile course of the world, where wit finding out a fool, feeds his fancy with such illusions, as makes him sometime lose himself, with looking after a shadow: as words are without substance, when they are laid for easy believers.  
Well sir, quoth the Angler, sith you rove so near the mark of an unhappy meaning, I will not yet trouble you with further deciphering of conceits, but only tell you a little cause of my pleasure taken in this cold exercise. Before I had leisure to learn this lesson of patience, to sit on a bank side, and only pleasing my conceit with the hope of my cunning, to deceive a silly creature of her comfort. I saw divers kinds of fishing in the world, which though they were easily learned, yet I had no mind to look into, at least for mine own use, howsoever it profited other: but of these were divers sundry sorts, and of divers natures, according to the Fishermen, or the fish that they baited for: of which kinds, according to the permission of time, I will acquaint you with a few, which I have learned to forget, as unpleasing to put in practice. One kind was substantial, an other metaphorical, and the third fantastical. The substantial was fishing with the golden hook, which rich men only laid in the deep consciences of the covetous, where they plucked up such favours, as brought them a world of commodity: and yet I remember one more wealthy than wise, having made a hook of a great weight, which was swallowed by a wide mouth, the great fish pulled the no little fool into the water, and either drowned him in the deep, or so swallowed him up quick, that he was never seen after in the world.  
Alas sir quoth the Scholar, this fellow was either too greedy of his gain, or persuaded himself to be another jonas, that after three days he should be cast out of the Whale's belly, and come to shore with a Muscle boat: but he was pitifully deceived, for by all that I can guess of him, he had but one syllable of his name, and that was the last, for he proved himself but an Ass, howsoever jone fed his humour. Alas sir quoth the Angler, there are many such misfortunes in the world, a man may swallow a Gudgeon, whilst he is fishing for a Pickrell, & leap a Whiting, whilst he is looking on a Codshead. Yea, quoth the Scholar, but that is foul play, that a man should lose his stool, while he is looking for a cushion, and be robbed of his bread whilst he is reaching for butter. Indeed qd. the Angler you say true, when one sits by ill neighbours, he had need look to his skirts. But leaving these Items, let me come to my first reckoning: fishing for the great fish I tell you, was wont to be with the golden hook. Let the Mermaids sing never so sweetly, they make no reckoning of their music, it is the golden hook that they will only come unto, and without that, it is but vain to lay for a fish and catch a Frog. Why, I have heard of fishes that have been made drunk with a golden kind of gum, that after they have but tasted it in their mouths, they have turned up their bellies. Now for such great fishes as I speak of, the very oil of gold is of such virtue, as the quintessence of half a million, will so overcome the senses of them that taste it, that they will turn up both back and belly, with the giddiness of that operation.  
Oh sir quoth the Scholar, a vengeance on the devil, here is a long tale quickly construed: jacke of both sides for a bag of money, where among the company of the Brokers the devil angleth for Usurers. But I pray you sir on with your fishing, and if you have done with your substantial, begin with your metaphorical. Sir, quoth the Angler, in truth my store of gold is so little, that I care not if I speak no more of that hook: and now, touching the metaphorical fishing, I found it only by wit, a conceited kind of hook, that is only laid in the shallow sense of understanding, where kind fools are cozened with fair words of fine devices: as a foul Crow, to be persuaded with eloquence, that she is beloved for her white bill, till to feed a flattering humour, she leave never a feather in her wing. Oh, quoth the Scholar, I understand you, as he that made fair wether with Vulcan, because he would make fair work with Venus. No, no, that is a foolish kind of fishing, to fish for a Codshead, and carry a knaves head to the market. Oh brother quoth the scholar, you are too plain in your Adverbs. In truth, answered the Angler, it is not worthy the name of a Proverb: for every note of experience is not a golden sentence, and yet give a fool a Coxcomb, and let every honest man have his right: for myself, I never loved to angle for credit with a show of more sober countenance then simple meaning, for in truth brother, and verily sister, made the devil dance Trenchmore, where hypocrisy blew the bagpipe. Yea, quoth the Scholar, how catch you a Trout but with a silken fly, and can you better deceive a fool, then with a Taffeta face? Oh sir, laugh upon every man at the first sight, make a curtsy of the old fashion, say a long grace without book, find fault with long hair, and great ruffs, and tell youth of his folly, and all imperfections of the flesh, shall be excluded from the spirit.  
Oh sir, quoth the Scholar, you should have set down probatum, a good medicine for a mad humour, to take physic without an apothecary, & to bleed in a lither vain. Go to sir, quoth the Angler, such fits of natural philosophy, put you from your book, and me to mine angle: but leaving these new tricks of an old dance, let us fall again to our old galliard: and touching angling, say that a mad fellow made a bait of a fair wench, to catch a foul churl withal, how many favours might her sweet eyes pluck out of his sour heart? In deed, quoth the Scholar, it is not a little treason in youth, to catch age in a wheelebarrow, especially when an Ape brings a Bear to seek honey in a Beehive. Well sir, said the Angler, what say you to him, that angleth with a counterfeit Diamond, to deceive an ignorant Lapidary. Alas quoth the Scholar, it is but a common Interlude, betwixt the cunning of wit, and the folly of pride. Yea, quoth the Angler, but what say you of honesty? I think as fools do of learning, it may be spared at the market, and hindereth the Country from good sport. In deed Sir, quoth the Scholar, an Accidence in an old cover, hath no grace in Court library. And a ballad be it never so good, it goes a begging after the Fair: and for honesty, it is such a jest, that even the beggar is weary of it, it hath so little place among other people.  
Oh sir, quoth the Angler, you forget yourself, hath not virtue been ever the beauty of learning, and honesty such a Badge, as puts down a painted cognisance? In deed, quoth the Scholar, I must confess, Olim meminisse iwabit, it doth me good to think of honesty, though it thrive but ill-favouredly: for Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis, we may go in our jerkins in Summer, but we must have a Cloak for the Winter. Indeed I have seen the devil painted like a Friar when he went to deceive a Nun, and judas looked like a holy brother, when he played the villain with his best Master. Did you take these for Fishermen, quoth the Angler? But ill-favoured ones qd. the Scholar, when the one of them laid his bait in hell, and the other followed his hook to the devil: and yet I have heard it is a common note in the world, for Friars to be wanton, and rich men to be covetous.  
Indeed quoth the Angler, you say well, Mediocria firm: better be walking in the highway, then building Castles in the air, or seeking Lobster's in the Sea: but let me talk with you further of angling. Say that Beggary had found out ambition, and laying a plot for his possession, never thought of honesty, till his villainy were at an end, when the bewitching of an idle ear, may breed the loss of an addle head: what say you to this angling? I say, quoth the Scholar, while the Peacock is gazing at his train, the Fox will be knitting of his hose-garters. Well sir quoth the Angler, sith I see you so merry with this metaphorical kind of fishing, I will tell you a little of the Fantastical. This last kind of angling is only in conceit, where wit lacking understanding, layeth his bait in a dream, to catch a fool, when he is awake: as when an overwéening spirit of his own power, will compass the course of the seven stars, with staring only at the Moon, and so looseth the benefit of his study. Oh sir quoth the Scholar, such a one was he that having a Dear in chase in his sleep, when he waked, found that a calves head and the brames, gave but a Huntsman and his dog their dinner.  
Well sir, quoth the fisherman, there is another fantastical angling, called Quasi, as if it were: As a mad fellow in a poetical fury, imagining he had a Mistress, made love to his conceit. Oh quoth the Scholar, I know such a fellow, as making verses of Venus, who was better acquainted with the black Smith, forgetting his better business, and gaining nothing by his idle labour, found he had been better to have kept his wits fasting, then to cesen his belly of his breakfast. Well, quoth the Angler, what say you to him that baits his hook with a feigned Ague, to steal favour from Pity. Indeed quoth the scholar, when women were wont to be kindhearted, conceits in men were very fevourous: and who could be so pitiless, as to see the conswaption of a kind humour, for a word of little good meaning. But now a days I hope there are no such men, knowing the nature of the female sex, given rather to love a strong body, than a strong breath, and a good purse, than a fair tale. Well said sir quoth the Angler, but what think you of him that angleth for authority, with a devised countenance of counterfeit majesty. I think quoth the scholar, that Fisherman to be the Ass in the lions skin, whom the Fox with long flattery leading to fear the wolf from his borough, no sooner head the Owl sound her Trumpet, but he threw off his proud cover-paine, and ran home to his old Crib, like a tale soldier at a course Manchet. Well sir quoth the Angler, but what say you of him that angleth for a Budget in the highway? Oh sir, quoth the Scholar, such open-eyed sléepers, ere they be well broad awake, may hap to be hanged for their dream. In good earnest sir, quoth the Angler, I can not but smile at your pleasant answers: But since I see the Sun draweth down apace, and I fear we shall have shorter time of conference, then may be I hope with both our good likings, I will no further trouble you with these kinds of anglings: but after that I have told you of the nature of some fishes, I will tell you a little tale of the choosing of their King. Sir, quoth the Scholar, you kindness being such as expects no ceremonies in courtesy, let it suffice you, that what I friendly receive, I will thankfully requite, which if I cannot as I would, I will deserve as I may. Sir quoth the Angler, to make no long harvest of a little corn, I will tell you touching the nature of fishes, I find this by experience, that the Purpose seldom plays, but it is a sign of foul weather. True, quoth the Scholar, a gentle Prognosticator, for him that is weary of his life:  An. 
The Whale is never hurt, but he makes his will on the shore.  Sch. 
Good: where his Oil is better for the Merchant, than his body was for the Mariner.  An. 
The Herring seldom skull, but in a thick misty morning.  Sch. 
A wholesome kind of meat, like the air that he delights in.  An. 
The Mackerel brings in Summer, for he comes but in May.  Sch. 
Like a Nosegay of flowers, that is no longer sweet than it is new gathered.  An. 
The Stockfish must be beaten, yea: and then quoth the Scholar, it makes a jolly mess of brews.  An. 
The Cunger must be soused, and the Eel in a Spechcock, or else they are not in their kind: In deed, quoth the Scholar, a raw Shrimp, and a burned Oyster, are no very pleasant dishes to digest: But me thinks this is but the nature of their dress: You say well, quoth the Angler, for in deed all fishes are by nature windy: watery you would say, quoth the Scholar, for I am sure take them out of the water except it be hot water, & the wind will do them little good: No, quoth the Angler, I mean wind in another sense: Oh you mean either breeding of the colic, or blowing of the backpipe, but a good cup of Sack, will kill the malice of a red Herring: but Sir since, to tell you true, I take no great care of their conditions, having a stomach of that digestion, that was never afraid of a raw Oyster. I pray you let me hear your tale of the choosing of their King: Sir, quoth the Angler, as I have heard it I will tell you: in the unknown deeps, of the wonderful water, called the never seen Sea: when fishes could speak, and waves carried news to the banks of the earth to mock the babies of the world, it was a noise in the air, that if there were not a King in the water, Frogs would eat up the fishes, whereupon poor fools holding an opinion, that wonders might come to pass, fell to a counsel among themselves, how to choose a King for their comfort. For a little time great hold and show was among them, in so much that there was a great fear of civil wars to grow among them. Some would have the Whale for his greatness, some the Dolphin for his swiftness, other the Swordfish for his stoutness: but when the Whale was seen unwieldy, though he were great, the Dolphin was too nimble to trust to, and the Swordfish too dangerous to dwell by: they no sooner saw the Herring come with his million of attendants, but his readiness to bear them company, at all times, and at all services, made them with general consent to go of his side, & so he received his title: But among the slow fishes that sliding low by the water, could make no haste to the Court, came, the Plaise with a pied coat: who had no little hope, that his cost would purchase him great honour: But being met by the way, by one that either pitied his expense, or laughed at his folly, he was told he might return home again, as he came: for the King was chosen, & allowed. Who (quoth the Plaise) the Whale, no: why so? He was unwieldy, the Dolphin? no, and wherefore? He was too nimble: the Swordfish? no: for what cause? He was too quarrelsome: the Cod? neither: for what fault? He gaped so wide, his throat was full of flies: who then? The Herring: Herring (quoth the Plaise) wrying his mouth so in scorn, that he could never since set it strait. And reason (quoth the Scholar) when a fool in a pied coat, will be putting for a kingdom: he must have his mouth, or his neck, or somewhat stand awry ever after.  
But Sir, for your tale I thank you, for I have heard it often, but not in this manner. But I pray you Sir let me entreat you, to tell me a little of the properties, and services of the fishes, especially, such River fish as you take pleasure to angle for. I will tell you (quoth the Angler) for Sea-fish, I have not been acquainted with many: but so far as I can speak I will tell you mine opinion. My judgement is that the Purpose is like a Swine, a great devourer of Sprats, that makes him in taste so like a red Herring: and being served at a table, he is a good gross dish, for a course stomach. Old Ling without mustered, is like a blue coat without a cognisance, and a piece of Gréene-fish with Sorrell sauce, is no mean service in an Alehouse. A Whiteing is so old a Courtier, that he cannot lose the credit of his service: Fresh Salmon, Sturgeon, and Conger, are no victuals for poor people, especially for weak stomachs, that must have wine for their digestion. Oysters are stirring meat, especially with the help of an Onion: Mussles, and Lobster's, Crabs, and Tortus, are dangerous for Agues: Smelts are good for women with child, and Shrimps are pretty picking meat, for idle people after dinner: now for River fish which we chiefly call Fresh-fish. The Pike is so ravenous, that he will destroy a whole pond, and eat up his fellow Pickrell: marry the Perch is so backed, that he dare not meddle with his bristles: the carp feeds most in the night: the Eel ever stirs most after a rain, and the Tench is the only Surgeon for all the Brook: But for roaches, Bleaks, Dase, and such like, they are such little fools, that against every little shower, they will be caught with a Fly, For their services, a Pike in broth, a carp baked, an Eel roasted, a Tench soused, a Swelled fried, and a Shrimp new sodden, are served in their best kinds: but of all fishes, fresh, or salt, whatsoever opinion is held of dainty tastes. The Herring is he that passeth Town and Country for a good fellow: and thus much for my knowledge in fishing. Now for the cause that first led me into the delight of this kind of angling, I will tell you. When I found the substantial angling, with the golden hook, was sometime devilish: the Metaphorical with the conceited hook, was often knavish, & the fantastical, with the dreaming hook, was foolish. I thought it better living, as I do not far hence, to walk from my house hither to the water side: and angle for a dish for my supper, then run into the Town I know not among whom, to gape like a Codshead, or so practise with a knaves head, that I may fear the devil in my conscience, ere I have half made my market for my dinner. In deed sir, quoth the Scholar, you say well: for when I was a Scholar in the University, many years a go: me thought solitariness was a sweet life, it did so avoid occasions of evil: but leaving my study, and falling into a little travail, I have run into such a world of varieties, that finding all vanities but virtue, I had rather walk as I do sometime, to contemplate the hopes of the blessed, then to run up and down among the confusions of the wicked. Truly sir, quoth the Angler, I am glad to hear a Scholar make so good a benefit of his study: as having escaped the snares of the devil, as it seems you have, that you are so addicted to serve God, as I hope you do: but since you have been both a Scholar and a travailer, I beseech you let me be beholding to you, for a little both of your learning & experience.  
Sir, quoth the Scholar, to acquaint you a little with my learning, you shall understand, that after such time as I had passed the Punies form, that I had gone through the rules of my Grammar, read over a little Poetry, and knew the grounds of Logic, I fell to the study of Philosophy, where finding Nature such a Mistress, and Reason such a Master, that they could not agree without patience, I took no little delight to note the dividing of the quarrel. Furthermore I found such secrets by observation, as I would not have miss for a mountain: As how, I pray you, quoth the Angler? Marry, quoth the Scholar, I will tell you: touching the quarrel first I will tell you. It is in the rules of Philosophy, that contraries cannot at one time be in one subject: which we see otherwise do fall out in a man, that warms his hands, and cools his pottage, and all with one breath. Yea, quoth the Angler, so a knave may flatter his Master, and abuse his friend, and all with one tongue: but what of that? I pray you go on: how decide you the quarrel? I will tell you, quoth the Scholar, by only Magis, and Minus, for in respect of the cold, it is warm, and in respect of the fire it is cold. Oh, quoth the Angler, I understand you by a Candle: which in the dark gives a pretty light, but in the Sun it goes out. True, quoth the Scholar, so is a fool held wise, among wits of weak understanding: but in the judgement of discretion, he is quickly decided. Now the next point that I learned in natural Philosophy, was this: Naturam expellas furca, licet, usque recurret: That which is bred in the bone, will never out of the flesh. In deed, it is hard to turn black into any other colour: Kat after kind will be ever good Mouse hunt. In deed, quoth the Angler, a jack-daw is never like a Tassell-gentill: but by your leave, what was your next note? This, quoth the Scholar, Contra principia non est disputandum: Which is this in effect. There is no disputing against principles. Oh, quoth the Angler, you mean with Princes, and good reason, for their pretogatives are great, and therefore their powers must be absolute, their displeasure feared, and their wills obeyed. In deed, quoth the Scholar, you say true, he is higher minded, then witted, that will contend with his superiors: but that is not the sense of this sentence. There be some Rascals called Atheists, that will dispute against the majesty of God. Oh, quoth the Scholar, leave them to the mercy of the devil: and as you say he that is so conceited of his wit, as to go from all good understanding, let him go hang himself in his own School, and God bless me from his learning. Amen, & me to, quoth the Scholar: but now to an other point: A particular ad generale: non est tenenda ratio: Though one man be true hearted, every knave is not to be trusted. No, quoth the Angler, for one Swallow makes not Summer: the Priest may be an honest man, and yet many a knave in the Parish: and virgin wax is for Christmas lights, which is not sold by every Chandler. True, quoth the Scholar, some men grow wealthy with good conscience, but it is not general in these days. But to leave these Sentences, I will tell you further of my learning. I find by my reading, that man was compounded of the four Elements, of fire, water, earth, and air. How, quoth the Angler, is it possible? The fire drink up the water, and the earth dry up the air, and when they are consumed, what is left to make man of.  
Oh sir quoth the Scholar, I thus understand the four Elements, Choler, Fleame, Blood, and Melancholy. Indeed qd. the Angler, I think you say true, a choleric fellow, will be angry with his own shadow: and a phlegmatic woman, hath her nose ever dropping: a melancholy fool, is like a dream of a dry Summer: and a sanguine faced youth, will bleed at the nose if he see a fair woman. Oh sir quoth the scholar, you speak merrily, but let me tell you, the choleric man is soon augrie, and soon pleased: the phlegmatic, is a better land man then a sea man: the sanguine, is a fine Courtier: and the melancholy, a great student. Just quoth the Angler: the choleric is like a hasty pudding, soon hot, soon cold: the phlegmatic is like a Culles, consumed into jelly: the sanguine like a Cherry tart, that would say come eat me, ere I came at it: and the melancholy, like a brown loaf that had been half burnt in the baking. Truly sir quoth the Scholar, I have not often heard such descant upon a plain song: but let me tell you, that without the knowledge of these grounds, it is hard for the Physician to minister cure of a disease. Well quoth the Angler, what soever you note by your reading, this I find by observation, that fire is good in Winter, and water in Summer, air sweet in the spring, and earth most comfortable in the harvest: and good cheer and honest company, makes a merry heart, and a sound body. I like not to study too far into Nature, to forget God, or to confound reason: indeed if Physicians cannot judge of simples, they may think of Com, but they shall come by few pounds. But yet for all my jesting, I pray you go on with your good instructions.  
Well sir than qd. the scholar, the next was this, Narura semper gignit sibi similem: an Eagle never hatched an Owl, nor of a Lion came a Monkey. True qd. the Scholar, a bird is commonly known by his feather, for every long bill is not a Woodcock. No quoth the Angler that is true, and yet master Constable may be wealthy, and his son an unthrift. Oh quoth the scholar, he may perhaps take after the Mother, who did eat up her Cream when she should have kept it for Butter: but to tell truth, a Greyhound and a Mastiff never breed but a apparel. But I will tell you further of my notes: I learn the property, quality and effect of many things, as first and chiefly of man.. Reason is proper to every man, honesty to many a man: now reason with honesty, effects credit with commendation.  
Well said qd. the Angler, and contrariwise, a man may have reason to enrich himself, but if his quality be to be a thief or a Traitor, the effect will be shame and hanging, if he chance to scape hell after. Very true quoth the scholar: but now in other things, as in Corn, to grow is the property, to make bread his quality, and his effect is our nurture. But quoth the Angler, if the ground be not well tilled, the seed well fowne, and the dow well kneaded, you may happen as good be fasting, as to keep your stomach for a loaf: but what say you of quantity? Indeed quoth the Scholar you say true: a good quantity of money, will help to grace a little wit, but I have seen one no higher than a horse-loaf, wiser than a world of wormsmeat. But indeed according to the quantity of your Roses, you must look for your sweet water from your Still. Oh sir quoth the Angler, you mean according to the quantity of your wit, you must look for the sweet of your inventions. Sir quoth the scholar, how soever my inventions are, I am sure yours are so quick, that if I were again to go to school, I would be glad of such a Master. Well qd. the Angler, flattery is an idle point of Rhetoric, and therefore, I pray you let me entreat you to give me leave to be merry with you, and crave a few of your notes upon your Moral philosophy. Sir quoth the scholar, in brief, with thanks for your kindness, I will grant your request: My first note was, that Omnes sibi melius esse male quam alterio: Every man had rather be his own friend than his neighbours. Oh qd. the Angler, but that is a rule against good fellowship.  
Why so, quoth the scholar, I think he that will not provide for his own breakfast, can hardly bid his friend to dinner. Well sir quoth the Angler, what say you to your sentence in this sense? A young lover in a cold night, gave his wench his cloak, and went himself in his doublet in the rain. I say quoth the scholar, love is dearer than life, and therefore, she being the sum of his heart's joy, he preferred his Mistress before himself, according to the custom of kind hearts. Oh quoth the Angler, such Lovers in deed are pretty fools, like the bird that flies in the air, and suffereth his hen, to hatch her eggs on his back, while he flies up and down, for meat for her dinner. But in deed to tell you truth, nearer is my skin then my coat, and that is the plain sense of your sentence. Well then qd. the scholar, to go on with another note: Erustra sapit qui non sapit sibi: He is a fool for all his wit, that is not wise for himself. Indeed quoth the Angler, he that will till his neighbour's ground, before he hath done with his own, may happen to have Corn in the field, when other have their harvest in the Barn. Indeed sir quoth the Scholar, he that doth for other, for I thank you, till he say to himself I beshrew you, he may have more kind wit, then commodious understanding: but by your leave, among many that have been students in this course of instructiou, I find one notable vile creature, whose philosophy I may rather call mortal then moral, his notes are so full of poison, to the spirit of all good disposition: and this good old Gentleman, his name was Machavile.  
Oh quoth the Angler, a vengeance of all villains, I think there was never such another, he hath left such deviltish lessons to the world, that I think he will hardly come at heaven. I pray you sir, quoth the Angler, let me entreat you to recite some of them. I will tell you sir qd. the scholar, among many notes that I took on't of divers places of his discourses, I remember this was one of the first: That it was good for a man of conscience to keep the bands of his oath: and yet when policy may purchase a good purse, an oath hath been ventured for a less matter than a million. Ang. O base companion, a fit steward for the devil, to bring souls into hell. A gentle instruction to persuade a covetous spirit, to bring the body and soul to destruction. But by your leave, he that will venture his own soul, shall have nothing to do with my body. Well, what was the next note? Marry quoth the Scholar, that Fathers in their government should be feared of their Children: But quoth the Angler, I am not of his mind in that point: for love breeds more assurance than fear doth comfort. But what else? Sch. That it is good for Masters to be bountiful to their servants, were it not, that Keepers will say, that fat hounds will hunt but lazily. Yea quoth the Angler, such lessons as these, drives so many poor serving men, that pay for their own liveries, to run on the score for their breakfasts. But I pray you what more? Sch. That he that will not curtsy to a Millstone, make music to an Owl, dance trenchmore with an Ape, and fall to wonder at a Weathercock, may hope after nuts, and pick on shells for his comfort.  
Tush man qd. the Angler, are these of his notes? Not in these words, but to this effect answered the Scholar. Indeed quoth the Angler, now that I do remember me, I think he that can carry a Ring in his mouth, a book under his arm, a pen in his ear, and a knife in his pocket, may hap to make himself good cheer, when better minds may miss their dinner: but on with your notes I pray you. Sir quoth the Scholar, I will tell you, I red in certain notes of a scholar of his, that a man that will thrive in the world, must have his eye upon one, his hand upon another, his foot upon the third, and his tongue for the fourth: but he must not set his heart upon any of them: for if he grow in love with a woman, or in league with a friend so far, that he commit his secrets to his keeping, his head is under an others girdle, his purse at an others command, and his wits in an others keeping: and then, for lack of a little discretion, he may even go currant for a fool. Oh this was a pretty scholar at the devils Alphabet, quoth the Angler, was not Timon of Athens one of the fathers of his church? who gave counsel to the afflicted to hang themselves for their comfort. I think he was quoth the scholar: but God bless every good spirit from such a wicked kind of humour: But to go on, I red further, that it was no little proof of wit, to find out a prodigal heir to use him like a younger brother: and if there were ever a Lawyer of a large conscience, what a bribe might do for a conveyance. Oh quoth the Angler, the pillary is a sit window for such villains to look out at. But are these the best notes that you remember in his study? Not the best quoth the scholar, nor the worst, but as they come into my head, I tell you them. I pray you sir quoth the Angler, have you not been a little red in historiography, or do you not remember any pretty accident that hath fallen out in your travail, which in the discourse of your kindness might do well to entertain the time with?  
Truly quoth the Scholar, I was never any great historian, neither hath my travail been long, yet have I seen more than I have read: but of either, as time will give me leave, I will tell you a little to laugh at. First touching histories, or rather indeed feigned tales, as good as fables, I red in a book whose Author I have forgotten, a discourse of a man whose name I found not written, but sith the matter is somewhat fresh in memory, I will as near as I can recite it, and thus it was. There was an old man of more age than grace, who having spent all his youth in birding, fell in his elder years to Coney-catching, but when the arrest of Time, brings the long day to a dark night, that no coin could make excuse, for none appearance upon the summon, Death would be satisfied with no answer, but depart: this old fellow, having a young son, much after the greedy humour of his gross Sire, before he ended his life, close at his beds side delivering him up the keys of his Coffers, left him this lessen for a farewell: My boy qd. he, if thou wilt be wise and take heed, I leave thee enough to keep thee like a man, and therefore look to thyself, for when thy money is gone, thou mayst go hang thyself for any help thou shalt have of thy friends, flatter thee as many as list, as there be knaves enough in the world, to find out a fool ere he be half bred: but mark well my words, make much of money, for 'tis a jewel in these days. If thou have land and money, a fair house, and a good purse, then, if thy nose stood in thy forehead, and thine eyes in thine elbows, thy head like a paved causey between two thin grown hedges, near a good tooth in thy head, good word in thy mouth, nor good thought in thy heart, yet if thou hast thy purse well lined, thou shalt have prayers of the beggar, a curtsy of thy follower, welcome of thy friend, and perhaps a glance of a fair Lady: if not, thou shalt have a wench that shall ride as merrily to the market, as if she were set on a side saddle of the best fashion. Now, if thy money be gone, the beggar is thy companion, the fool bids thee welcome to a Peascod, the knave stands & laughs at thee, and the honest man, perhaps more pities thee than relieves thee: the proud man scorns thee, thy virtues are buried, thy name is forgotten, thy qualities are trifles, thy learning but lost, thy wit but folly, and thy honesty put to no use: thy friend regards thee not, thy wench knows thee not, and thy foe spares thee not: and thou art left to sorrow to make an end of thy miseries, or by some desperate course to fall into Gods forbidden. And therefore my boy make much of thy money, it will bring thee music when thou art melancholy, physic when thou art sick, & company when thou art solitary. Remember what I say, look to the main chance: Aurum potabile will fetch him to life that is half dead. Be true to thy Prince for fear of hanging: be not busy with religion for fear of trouble: strive not with power for fear of a fall, and spend not thy money for fear to go a begging: Lo, this is all I have to say to thee, oh I have a pain at my heart, and so he died.  
Why quoth the Angler, did he never bid him serve God, nor call himself on him for comfort? Alas quoth the Scholar, how could he think on God, and the devil always so near him? Well quoth the Angler, we must not judge any man, but I would be loath to be his half at the day of Doom. But I pray you what other pretty history or devised tale have you read in some other humour, that may serve the turn to pass away the time withal. Sir quoth the scholar, I have read many pretty toys, too tedious at this time to call to memory, but among all I remember one pretty discourse of a Lady and her servant. Oh quoth the Angler, I believe 'tis a love tale, if it be it shall be welcome. For, to tell you true, though I be in this time of my declining youth, an unfit dancer in such a Morris, yet let me ever love music, though I cannot tune a virginal: it is a good confirming of my repentance, to here a precedent of my imperfection. Then sir qd. the scholar, thus it was, or at least was said to be. In the Island of ill fortune, where idle heads seek for favours, and virtue hath little countenance, where money is the great Monarch, it fell out that in the court of the Duke of Calliflorida, among many creatures of worthy commendation, there was one especial fair Lady of so honourable a spirit, and excellent a wit, as gave the wise admiration, in her conference, and the valiant, happiness in her favour: this pure Diamond among a number of fair jewels, I mean this kind of Angelical creature, among a troup of sweet Ladies, as she could not but be honoured of many, so was she especially followed with the affectionate service of one worthy Cavaliero, above many other: much there was to be commended in them both, but let this for my discourse suffice, she was exceeding fair and wise, and he no less kind than truly valiant, but as it seemed by that which was written of them, his understanding was inferior to her wit, whose beauty had the command of his resolution.  
Long had this poor Gentleman with the silence of love followed this princely Lady: who more favouring his discretion, then revealing her own conceit, took this occasion one fair evening in a pleasant Garden, to single herself from company, and in a solitary walk, espying her servant all alone, met him suddenly at a half turn, when putting up her Mask to salute his reverence with a word of favour, as though her coming thither had been by chance, which was done in deed of set purpose, she entertained the time with this speech.  
Sir, quoth she, thus you see the course of the world: each conceit hath his cross, and a woman a cross conceit to a thousand. I am snre you little thought, choosing out this solitary walk, for the better passage of your meditations, to meet so unhappily, and unlooked for, with the subject of so much trouble. The poor Gentleman little expecting either so kind a companion, or so sweet a speech, with no little gladness, made the Lady this answer. Good Madam, to make a trouble of comfort, were so unkind a construction of happiness, as howsoever other conceive of it, I desire not to be acquainted with it: but when the heart of a poor Soldier, had rather with his sword make way for his Mistress honour, then with his tongue for his own favour. Let me humbly persuade so far with your good discretion, that if in the kindness of your command, you will vouchsafe the employment of my service, I do not doubt but that in the proof of my action, you will easily see my affection, which in the only hope of your good countenance, shall set up the rest of my world's honour: To which short speech the Lady no less quick witted, then well read, made him this sudden answer. Oh sir, Soldiers generally are of that imperious humour, that they had rather command a look then yield to a tittle: and in mine opinion, if Cupid were now alive, Mars would cut his bowstring, ere he should do any good with his arrows, so that by want of the company of good spirits, Diana might keep alone in the Woods, while Venus might make her will in her Chamber. Truly Madam, answered the Knight, I know not what fed the Poet's wits, to feign such fables as are written: but for myself while in your virtue, I behold the object of my honour, I will rather divote my service to your worthiness, then trouble myself with trifles that I dare not trust, as are the fictions of idle heads, or the painted covers of inward imperfections. Sir Knight quoth the Lady, by the little sight of our eye, we behold a great circuit of the earth: and shall not the spirit of our understanding through the eye of our mind, behold the light of that truth, that may lead the care of our reason, to the content of our conceit? I hope the best: and though as a mist may dim the sight of the eye, and dissembling the sense of the mind, yet for that I will try before I doubt, and command before I favour: let the patience of your discretion attend the pleasure of my employment: and for all courses what soever fall out, if I do you good, be glad, not proud of it, and open not your window to the Sun, when she hath power to send her beams through the glass: and so not entertaining your service, till I may acquaint you with my best content: I pray you walk aside for this time: For I see a Gallant, that I must talk with, and will soon be rid of. The good Knight unwilliug, by any motion of discontent to put out the fire, that was now in kindling with humble thanks took his leave, and left his Lady to her new Lover: who no sooner came near her, but observing all fine ceremonies, with kissing his hand, in putting off his hat, with a Passa measure pace coming toward her sweet presence, greets her with this salutation. Fair Lady, the Quintessence of your beauty's excellence, hath so inflamed the spirit of my affection, that except I have favour in your eyes, my heart will surely consume to ashes: and therefore if my service may have acceptation in your contentment, I will not be behind with my good will to execute the office of your command. The Lady with a blushing smile at this wise Gentleman's formality, made him this quick and quipping answer. Sir, if your new coined eloquence were not too far out of the way of mine understanding, I would fit you an answer to your motion: but since silence can best talk with wooden Rhetoric, I pray you sir if you have any thing to say to me, let me plainly know your meaning: Why, quoth this Whippet, if I should tell you I love you, and you believe it not, if you believe it, and yet regard it not, if you regard it, and yet confess it not: what shall I be the better to speak plainliar than I have reason? Well sir, quoth the Lady, to this abundance of little wit, if I did like to study upon such Riddles, I should perhaps trouble myself to find out a fit answer for the cipher of reason. But to tell you plain, your love I know not, yourself I love not, your words I regard not, and how you take it I care not: But if you have any thing to say to any other end, I will hear you as I think good, and answer you as I see cause. Why then Madam, quoth he, to tell you plain, my Lord your Father saw you out of his window walking with Signior Felio, and upon the sudden willed me to come for you. Well sir, quoth the Lady, nothing dismayed at the message, I am ready to attend his pleasure, though I wish he had sent a fit servant to mine humour. But to make as short tale as I may sending word by this odd Gallant, that she would forthwith attend his pleasure, calling to her a Gentlewoman, that she saw sitting in an Ar●our somewhat near unto her, taking her in her attendance, away she goes to her good Father, who with a natural kindness dissembling his discontent, in suspect of the talk had betwixt her and Don Felio, with a smiling countenance entertained her with this welcome: taking her by the hand, and leading her into his Gallery, he began in private thus to fall in talk with her. My best girl, whom above all the children that I have, I most esteem in the true joy of my heart, and well worthy, for thy good caridge in all courses, as well for thy duty towards me, as thy reputation in the world, I must confess, I never had cause to suspect thy discretion in any cause of dislike, but if a Father's care prove a kind of jealousy, excuse the error in abundance of love, and tell me truth to a question that I will put unto thee. The sweet Lady, not willing to delay her Father with long circumstance, with a modest countenance, not once altering her colour, but keeping the care of her wit, entreated his commandment of her duty: who in kind manner made her this speech. I have been here in my Gallary walking most part of this evening, and looking out at one of these windows, I espied Don Felio all alone, walking a turn or two in the long walk, where he had been but a while, when you found him in his Muses, and entertained him, or he you, I know not with what conference. The man is one that I love, and will be glad to prefer to any honour that he deserveth, but I pray thee tell me, what was the substance of your talk?  
Truly Father, quoth Madam Fianta, for so was her name, I would gladly tell it you if I might presume upon her patience, and not doubt your displeasure, I will acquaint you with as much as I can remember. The Duke expecting another matter than she delivered, with a dissembled countenance of promised content, willed her boldly to say her mind. Then good Father quoth the Lady, thus it is: little thinking to find any creature in that walk, when fingling myself from my company, I took my Book of Da plisses in my hand, and meant to contemplate some divine contentations, being near unto him ere I was aware, and loath either to disgrace him with entreating his absence, or upon the sudden to withdraw myself from his company, in such good manner as it might well beseem him, he saluted me with this speech. Honourable Lady, I am sorry that it is my ill hap to become a trouble is your contentive solitariness: but how doth my good Lady, and your good Father? Him quoth I, in good health I left not long since, and myself you see, not troubled with good company: but what should make Don Felio to choose this solemn place for his solace? Alas Madam, quoth the poor Knight, I dare speak to your Ladyship, who in the pity of your virtue have ever been a good furtherer of all suits of your Father's servants: so ill hath been my hap, that after the spending of many years, losing of no little blood, and wasting of some part of my little substance, now there is no use for me in his wars, to make my adventure upon the enemy, my years growing to that height, that I must before the declining of my best age, put my wits to some work for the better relief of my poor carcase, and maintaining of my mean estate: having had a long suit unto him, which by the crossness of my back friends I am almost now out of hope to enjoy, I am devising not far hence near unto the City, in a large Orchard that I have belonging to my house, to set up an Ape-baiting: which being a new matter, and never in practice, at least, that ever I have heard in this Country, will toll a world of wise people together, who shall pay every one for his coming in, howsoever they repent it at their going out: now I will tell you in what manner it shall be. I will have an Ape tied to a great log, which shall be round about beset with bee-hives, and when the Ape is set among them, his nature is to catch at any thing that buzzeth in his care, now when on be hath been about him, and he fall to catch and miss, that Bee will bring another, and that another, till in a little time jacke will be so stung, that what with mowing, crying, and skipping, he will make sport enough for a penny. Now before the sport begin, there shall at the entrance into the Garden sit a blind man, and a deaf woman, disputing an argument of love, and at the further end of the Alley, a Bagpipe and a Gittr●n, play Trenchmore to a Tinker's dog. Now will not this do well for a devise, to help a poor man to a little money?  
Now fie Sir, quoth I, lay away this melancholy humour, I will rather be your friend to my Father, and help you to a far better matter, than you shall purchase by this bad or base invention: and therefore I pray you to lay aside your determination in this point, till you hear further from me of my Father.  
The good old Prince, little thinking his pretty Monkey could upon the sudden have devised this Apish tale, giving credit to her discourse, made her this joyful answer. My dear Fianta, I must confess, he hath had back-friends in his fortune, yet hath not his desert lain dead in my favour: for no longer then yesterday, have I signed, and caused my seal to be set to the grant of his suit, which to morrow thou shalt give him, with my purse full of gold, for he is one that I love dearly, how soever I make show of less matter: soon at night forget not to come to me for it. And so with a few other good words, left her to her best company to her liking: who the next morning, having received her father's blessing, with his bountiful tokens of favour to his servant, secretly sent to the Knight, to meet her in the walk where he left her. The message not a little welcome, made him not long in coming to his dear Mistress, of whom receiving for the term of threescore years, the gift of a stately house, with divers goodly Lordships and Parks to the same belonging, with his purse full of money, the better to defray his charges, with humble thanks to his gracious Master, and no less to his dear Mistress, who had thoroughly acquainted him with the course she had taken for him, according to her secret direction hastend himself into the Country, where after a few love-letters that had passed betwixt them, within a little time the Duke died, and his daughter (with her dowry) made a match with her true Knight. Oh fine tale quoth the Angler, made upon the finger's ends: for it could not be but there were many cross tricks in the Cards ere the game went about, but you see the time is short, and therefore you do well to abridge the best. But now Sir, if in kindness I may, I pray you let me entreat a little of your travail, what you have noted in your passage to and fro. Sir quoth the Scholar, to tell you a little here & there what I have seen and noted, I am contented: and therefore to be short, I will tell you in one Country where I came I saw a strange wonder: for where as in many other Country's men did use to eat up the sheep, in that Country sheep had eaten up both the men & their houses. For in the pastures, where I saw great flocks of sheep feeding, I might near unto certain footepathes, behold here and there a piece of an old stone causey, which had been in times past some street or by lane, in some Town or village, but now there was neither house nor town, nor man left, more than the Shepherd, and his sheepish Master to look upon them: this was one of my first notes. In an other Country I found by the speech of the people, a great alteration of men, for a number of Gentlemen of ancient race, by the wretched course of fortune, or folly of their own or their friend's indiscretion, were gone from the Court to the Cart, and the son of What lack you, was become the only right worshipful. This is my second note.  
Well Sir quoth the Angler, touching your first note, let me tell you, that the Weathers wool sticks not in the Graziers teeth, and a good purse with quiet, makes one plough worth two swords. But on I pray you with some more of your notes, for I like these very well. I will tell you quoth the Scholar, in one Country where I came, I saw the Woods so brave it with great trees, and the Barns so flourish with sheaves of Corn, that a number of poor people died with hunger and cold. Alas quoth the Angler, that is too common in many Countries: but indeed it is pity to see such dogged minds among Christians, or at least, such as make profession of Christianity: but on I pray you with your discourse. In an other Country quoth the Scholar, I saw one year such bloodshed, that there hath been wars there ever since. Alas quoth the Angler, the massacre in Paris can be your witness for that truth: where the devil and the Pope made the Duke of Guise the chief murderer. In another Country quoth the scholar, I saw men given so to drink, that God to punish their sin, drowned a great part of the Land.  
You say true, quoth the Angler, they that pour so much liquor into their own bellies, deserve to have some water in their beds: but proceed I pray you. In an other Country I saw many pretty accidents, though of no great importance, yet worth the noting: of which one I remember, which I am persuaded will make you smile to hear, if at the least I can hit near the manner of it, as I heard it. I pray you heartily quoth the Angler, let me be beholding to you for it. Not so, quoth the Scholar, but to content your kindness, thus it was. Having travailed long upon a rainy day, and after a weary journey being somewhat wet, come into mine Inn, being brought into the Parlour to mine Host, who it seemed by his shéepe-furd short gown, to be the Officer for the Parish, I mean the pinching of bread, and nicking of pots, beside, prisoning of thieves, carrying beggars to the stocks, and watching of the Town at midnight, that it ran not over the bridge, for lack of a gate to keep it in before morning, and keeping the key of the Cage, and the Cucking-stool, after the manner of some formal Constable: this substantial Yeoman, who as it should seem to be the Son of some Fleshmonger, as Muttons, beeves, and such like commodious kind of Beasts, who together with his Inkéeping, and the help of Maid Marian, a good Hosts to draw on guess, could with his gross noddle, making a night gown of an Oxhide, keep himself warm in a cold Winter, and purchase not only the house that he dwelled in, for this young Gentleman his biggest Son, but some old Ruddocks for his young Roiles, having brought up this his heir for sometime at the free School, and a little before his death put him to the University, made this cipher of wisdom, to observe his Father's rule, in the education of a Son of his, who a little after my coming in, came home to his Father from the Acadeime, as it seemed, being sent for by his Parents, against the Christmas holidays, to be posed by Master Parson: but to be short, after we had supped, mine Host calling for a chair for himself, and an other for me, to environ a good warm bank, of Sea-coal fire, few guess being that night in the house, began to examine his Son of his study in this manner. Come hither Sirrah, how have you spent these five last years, that I have been at no little charge with you for your learning? Let me hear you what have you read, since you gave over your Grammar, and your Cato, and those toys. Sir, quoth the Boy, with a crooked curtsy, I first read Logic: Logic, quoth the old man, a vengeance on it, what should you do with it, an only cunning of wit to play the knave with a plain meaning: a proper trick of treason, to maintain a lie against truth. Well, what next? Forsooth, quoth the Boy Rhetoric: just quoth the old man, an other fine piece of learning to teach a lewd mind to paint out a false tale with fair words: but what more? Forsooth, quoth the Boy, the next was natural Philosophy. What, quoth he, dost thou mean to be a Physician? Use abstinence, and keep good diet, and care not a pin for the Apothicary. But on with the rest: what else? Forsooth, quoth he, Moral Philosophy: What, quoth the old man, to learn to léere, and look big, to curtsy, and kiss the hand, to be at your silver fork, and your picktooth? Sirrah, it is not for your Father's son, to trouble his head with these trifles, your Father follows the Cart, and thou art not shaped for a Courtier: but well, is this all: or is there any more yet? Yea forsooth, quoth the young man, I have read a little of Arithmetic: that quoth the old Sir, I shall find by the account of your battailing: where, if In primis, and Item, make Totalis, above allowance, I will take you from your book, and teach you another profession: but what else? Forsooth quoth he, I have a little looked into Music. How now, quoth his Father, what, art thou mad, to be a Fiddler? A head full of Crotchets kept never wit in good compass: but on I pray thee with the rest? Forsooth, quoth the Stripling, I have read somewhat of Geomatry. Oh quoth the Father, I like that well, thou meanest to save charges, when thou hast timber of thine own, thou wilt not be beholding to the Plough-wright: but a little more. What else? Forsooth quoth he, my Tutor was beginning me with Astrology. What quoth the old man, teach thee to go to Tennis with the whole world? No, the ball is too big for the best Racket of his brain: but have you looked nothing into Astronomy? Yes forsooth quoth he, and whereto, quoth his Father? To learn to lie in an Almanac, to cozen fools with fair weather. But what have you learned of Divinity? Forsooth quoth the youth but little as yet, only a few rules of Cathechising: yea so I thought, quoth old Twagge? Well, this is a wretched world, to see how new Schoolmen, have a new fashion in their teaching: they were wont to teach little children when I went first to school, before they learned one letter, to say, Christ's cross be my speed and the holy Ghost, but now among a number, Christ, his Cross, and his holy Spirit, is so little taught among little scholars, that it is almost forgot among great Masters. But leaving spelling and put together, which is eastlie learned in a Hornbook, let me tell you somewhat of all your studies that you never heard yet at school, and if you mark it well, perhaps it shall do you no hurt. Begin first with Divinity, learn to know God, and know all, know not him, and know nothing: Learn to know him in his power, to love him in his mercy, to honour him in his goodness, to believe him in his word, and to confess him in his glory. Apply this knowledge to your comfort, and be thankful for your blessing in his grace: know him I say, humbly, love him faithfully, serve him truly, and pray to him heartily, and so in despite of the devil, how ever the world go with thee, thou shalt be sure of the joys of heaven. Now, for your Logic, learn to maintain a truth, and to confound the contrary: For Rhetoric, only learn this out of it, that to speak much in a few words, is a good note of a wise Scholar. Now for Arithmetic, it is not amiss in time of haste to make a reckoning quickly: but take heed, that reckoning without an Host, put not thy purse to a new expense. For Music, a merry heart is worth ten crowds, and a Bagpipe. And for Philosophy, it is better to use her effects, then know her secrets: And for Moralities, be not too saucy with thy betters, nor too familiar with base people, coy to thy friends, nor too kind to fools, and with a little observation of times and places, thou shalt be a Philosopher without book. Now for Geometry, rather learn, and study to purchase Land, then build houses: for it is a cost will soon decay, and titles in these days are tickle holds to trust to. Now for Astrology, rather love a Molehill of thine own, than a Mountatne of thy neighbours: and for Astronimy, rather keep thee in the warmth of the Sun, then follow the shadow of the Moon: and whatsoever you learn by the book, be sure to have this always by heart: Crumena sine pecunia, quasi corpus sine anima: A purse without money is like a body without a soul: and therefore whatsoever you remember, forget not your purse, I mean your money: for when I was young, I saw many do so much in many things, that there was almost nothing done, (I mean for worldly matters) without it. I remember, not a mile from the town where I dwelled, I saw a sweet young soul married to a sour old Sir, only for money, & hard at the towns end many a proper man make his will upon the gallows, and only for money. I saw a knave that had cozened his father, lose his cares on the pillary for many. I saw some drawn, hanged and quartered, for clipping of money. Some misers grow mad to part with their money, and poor beggars starve and die, with lack of meat and drink, and money. Why let me tell thee, if thou dost continue at thy learning, it will paint thy study, and fornish thee with books, it will cloth thy back and feed thy belly, it will guild thy speech, and give fame to thy wit, make room for thy presence, and keep a cushion in thy seat: thou shalt sit uppermost at the Table, feed on the best dish, and not be contradicted in thy speech, but welcome with a world of kindness, where wanting that Earth's chief ornament, thou shalt have a satchel full of holes, a study without glass-windows, books without covers, and a threadbare jerken without a cloak, thy belly pinched with lack of victuals, thy head ache with fruitless study, and thy heart sick with grief of mind, thy welcome cold in most companies, thy place below thy inferiors in worth, shouldered of every jack, and sometime stand with out a stool: and therefore, if thou be a Divine, get a Benefice, if a Physician, get a suit, if a Geometritian, get an office of surveying, if whatsoever, get money, and then serve God, and follow what study thou wilt. So the time calling to bed, the old woman loath to waste fire and candle, bade shut up doors & away: when the good man with a brown loaf gape, and a hay ho at the end of it, betaking me to my chamber, got himself to his Goose-rest. Where leaving him to short with his sow, I heard no more of his good mastership, but in the morning, having haste of my way, taking order for my charges, gave a farewell to the flying Ostrich, which was the Arms of his Inkéeping, fair painted upon the signpost.  
Now truly Sir, quoth the Angler, I thank you for your merry tale, I think he was some kinsman, or of his race, that you told me you had red of, who at his death left his son such a lesson to look to his money. I think Sir quoth the Scholar, they were birds of one feather, though they lived not at one time: but it is strange to see sometime, what sharpness of wit a man shall meet with in such a bald noddle. You say true Sir quoth the Angler, but it is pity that ever good Wine should come into a fusty vessel: but might I entreat you for one discourse more, of some accident that you met with in your travail, and so with the setting of the sun I will take up mine angle, and entreat your company to my poor house, where having been a scholar & a travailer, I hope you will take your welcome with a few dishes. Sir quoth the scholar, for one discourse more I will not deny you, but for my trouble at your house, I must entreat your pardon for this night, to morrow it may be, I will wait on you as I come by you: for this night I am invited at the Keepers of the great Parks, where having past my word, I would keep my promise.  
Sir, quoth the Angler, use your discretion, now to morrow, or at an other time, your welcome is set down, and your company desired, and therefore I beseech you, while I shall enjoy the benefit of your good company, let me be beholding to you for your discourse. Then Sir, you shall understand quoth the Scholar, that in the time of my travail, coming (by occasions) as well into the Palaces of Princes, as the cottages of poor people, it was my hap, yea I may well say, that under heaven it was my greatest happiness that of this world I ever found, to light into the courtlike house of a right worthy honourable Lady, the desert of whose commendations, far exceeding the style of my study, I must leave to better wits to dilate of, while I poorly speak of the little world of my wonder. For in her eye was the seat of pity, in her heart the honour of virtue, and in her hand the bounty of discretion: to see her countenance the comfortless, argued a divine spirit, to hear her speak, which was never idle, proved an oracle of wit, to behold her presence, might speak of a miracle in nature: to be short, except Plato, I knew no such philosopher: except the excepted, I mean the Lady of Ladies in this world, the honour of women, and wonder of men, the teacher of wit, and the amazer of the wise, the terrifier of the proud, and the comforter of the oppressed, the beauty of Nature, the wonder of Reason, and the joy of honour: the handmaid of God, the heavenly creature of the Earth, and the most worthy Queen in the world, the princely Goddess, or divine Princess, the gracious sovereign of the blessed Island of England: except I say this sun of the earth's sky, I know not a star of that state that can compare light with this Lady: while her thoughts keep the square of such discretion, that no idle humour dare enter the list of her conceit. What praise can be given to that spirit, that hath so ordered the careful course of her senses? she doth all things as she did them not, and useth the world as she esteemed it not, Honour is her servant, Virtue is her love, Truth is her study, and Meditation is her exercise: yet is she affable, with such courtesy, as wins honour in humility: to make an abridgement of her praises, in a few words of her worthiness, let this suffice, that Nature and Wit, Virtue and Honour, Pity and Bounty, Care and Kindness, have so wrought together in the perfecting of a peerless creature, that I may bite my tongue, and burn my pen, lay up my little wits, and wish for a more divine spirit, to enter into the conceit of her desert, ere I further show my weakness, to speak of the wonder of her commendation. But among many good parts, whereof her praise is top full, I will tell you one action, and not the least, that fell out in my time of attendance on her favour: Her house being in a manner a kind of little Court, her Lord in place of no mean command, her person no less than worthily and honourably attended, as well with Gentlewomen of excellent spirits, as divers Gentlemen of fine carriage, besides all other servants, each of such respect in his place, as well might give praise to the Governors, where honour setteth rules of such discretion. It might perhaps seem tedious, to set down the truth of such particulars as deserved a general commendation, where first, God daily served, religion truly preached, all quarrels avoided, peace carefully preserved, swearing not heard of, where truth was easily believed, a table fully furnished, a house richly garnished, honour kindly entertained, virtue highly esteemed, service well rewarded, and the poor blessedly relieved, might make much for the truth of my discourse, while Envy can but fret at her confession: but least in blowing at a coal I do but put out the fire, and obscure her praise, that may be penned by a better spirit, let this suffice for the sum of my speech, that where the eye of honour, did set the rule of government, kindness was a companion in every corner of the house: now, to this little Earth's kind of Paradise, among many sundry kind of people, came by chance a poor Gentleman in the ruin of his fortune, by the devise of a close conveyance of an imagined friend brought in, having more wit than discretion, in the nature of a good fool, to give this Lady cause of laughter: who no sooner sounded the substance of his wit, but with the deep eye of her rare judgement, piercing into the humble virtue of his spirit, pitying his fortune, and perceiving his want, made use of his service in a better sense, and in the divine nature of her blessed spirit, determined the mean of his advancement. With her countenance she graced him, with good words she favoured him, with her bounty, she relieved him, and would suffer no man to hurt him: for seeing honesty want maintenance, and virtue oppressed with malice, she did not like a helping hand to fill up a half penny purse with a poor reckoning, but like herself in the absolute power of her honourable spirit, she comforted the afflicted mind, revived the heart half dead, and as it were drawn out of the ditch of misery, set the spirit in the warm sun of God's blessing. Thus did this Princess entertain this poor Gentleman, till by the faction of the malicious, the delightful working of the envious, & the desert of his own unworthiness, finding in the deceiving of this his bright sun, the sinking of his too happy favour, supping up his sorrow to himself, taking leave for a time, to travail about a little idle business, in a cold snowy day passing over an unknown plain, not looking well to his way, or being ordained to the misery of such misfortune, fell so deep down into a Saw-pitte, that he shall repent the fall while he lives: for never since daring to presume, but in prayers to think on his fair Princess, and living in poor Cottages, to look towards that Courtlike palace, he hath gone up & down like a shadow without substance, a purse without money, and a body without a spirit.  
For ever since, as he hath often told me, if he have come among men, it hath been like a Fair of rude people, compared to the sweet company of that house, if in the company of women, like a meeting of Gossips, in respect of the gracious spirits of the sweet creatures of that little paradise: and if by chance in his weary passage, he hath had any private conference, with some especial bird of the Country, yet for all the best notes that ever he heard, they were all Sparrows to his Nightingale. For according to the dispositions of their minds, he might see the weakness of their spirits: as some would talk of nothing, but the new fashion, pinning of ruffs, starching rebaters, the Outlandish tire, and the long bodies: the fine stuff, and the pretty pink, the Lawn shadow, and the cutwork Lace: other of the pied Cow, the bay Horse, the black Sheep, and the branded Pig: another? her Malt in the Kill, her Oats in the scuttle, and her Rye in the sheaf, her Cheese in the press, and her Butter in the cherme. Now with this galimawfrey of such good matter, as filled his ears with more sound then good sense, must he satisfy his sorrowful heart, that, when it got him alone by himself, with calling to mind the excellent matter, that in variety of method he had often heard from the mouth of his Minerva, would so fall into a sighing, that had not the heavens the better blessed it, it would surely have burst asunder. For, say quoth he, that though some few I found of extraordinary good spirits, yet among a number of these Country dances, I did light on such a Galliard, as had a trick above Trenchmour, and could speak more to the purpose, than many of the wives of the Parish, who having read many English books, could tell pretty tales of idle people, yet compare this Crystal with my Diamond, she would quickly show her dunnes: and among all other things, if by the revenue of a pretty Dairy, she could privily put up three pence to spend at a blind bridaile, if perhaps in a good humour, she had a mind to pleasure a poor friend, it would come so dropping out of her fingers, as though it hung at her heart blood: and then perhaps with such a lesson to it, to take heed of unthriftiness, with a shrug of the shoulders at the hardness of the world, that it would break the heart of a good mind, to think on the misery of such Alms.  
To go from Hives that give the golden honey,  
To shilling Spirits, that will tell their money.  
And then calling to mind the golden showers of his Lady's favours, bled inwardly in the heart, with such drops of unseen tears, as makes him like Adam out of Paradise, hope of no happiness, till he come at heaven: Or like the Phoenix, live in ashes, till he may get life by the virtue of his bright Sun again: and now this is only his worldly comfort, that she liveth, whom his heart honoureth, and his soul prayeth for, though his unworthy eye, be abandoned the blessing of his senses admiration: Who though he live in the dungeon of sorrows darkness, will never cease prayer to the heavens for his bright suns eternal blessedness: and that as her name doth live only in the high Meridianis, so her soul may be blessed in the highest Caelis. Alas poor wretch, quoth the Angler, why do your eyes water your cheeks, at the shutting up of this discourse? If it be yourself, be not dismayed, Princes have gracious spirits, and great powers, who at the time of their pleasure will comfort patience in misery: and after the woe of a long Winter, give the fruit of a little Spring, howsoever hope hit on a good Summer: and therefore continue thy constancy, in thy prayer to remember the happiness of thy heart's honour, and fear not, but virtue will one day have a glance of favour: and therefore if I may advise thee, let not malcontent breed a madness, to drive thee from thyself to a worse companion. Serve God, and care not for the world: for I am persuaded, that she that is made of so many exceed, cannot but at her good time make thee happy in her comfort, who though a while she shut up the hand of her bounty: yet will send thee a little of that Quintessence, that will save thee from a deadly swoon, howsoever sorrow possess thee. And therefore be her bead-man in thy prayers, till she make employment of thy further service. And now since I see the Sun grows so low, as will scarce give us light to our lodging: let me at this parting challenge your promise, that to morrow you will visit my poor cabin: which with all kindness that I can devise, shall be always with myself at your command. Thus with hearty thanks each to other, with a few good words of either side, taking a kind leave, the Angler takes up his hook, & away they part from the River side. From whence when they were gone in a manner out of sight, a certain odd Diogenes of the world, like a forlorn creature on the earth, thrown lately out of the fortune of his Mistress favour, getting a Paper-booke under his arm, and a pen and Ink under his girdle, in a melancholic humour, meaning to trouble the Muses, with some doleful Ballad, to the tune of all a green willow, sitting down on a little molehill, among a thick grown plot of Ozters unseen, in steed of his intended piece of Poetry, writ as fast as he could this discourse that he heard betwixt this Angler, and the Scholar.  
FINIS.