Licenced,  
April 5. 1676. Roger L'Estrange.   

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.  
Being Instructions how to angle for a TROUT or GRAILING in a clear Stream.  
PART. II.  
Qui mihi non credit, faciat licet ipse periclum: Et fuerit scriptis aequior ille meis.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Marriott, and Henry Brome in St. Paul's Churchyard. MDCLXXVI.   

TO My most Worthy FATHER and FRIEND, Mr. IZAAK WALTON The Elder.  
SIR,  
BEing you were pleased some years past, to grant me your free leave to do what I have here attempted; and observing, you never retract any promise when made in favour even of your meanest friends; I accordingly expect to see these following particular Directions for the taking of a Trout, to wait upon your better and more general Rules for all sorts of Angling: And, though mine be neither so perfect, so well digested, nor indeed so handsomely couched as they might have been, in so long a time as since your leave was granted; yet, I dare affirm them to be generally true: And they had appeared too in something a neater dress, but that I was surprised with the sudden news of a sudden new Edition of your Complete Angler; so that, having but a little more than ten days time to turn me in, and rub up my memory (for in truth I have not in all this long time, though I have often thought on't, and almost as often resolved to go presently about it) I was forced upon the instant to scribble what I here present you: which I have also endeavoured to accommodate to your own Method. And, if mine be clear enough for the honest Brothers of the Angle readily to understand; (which is the only thing I aim at) than I have my end; and shall need to make no further Apology; a writing of this kind, not requiring (if I were Master of any such thing) any Eloquence to set it off, or recommend it; so that if you, in your better Judgement, or kindness rather, can allow it passable for a thing of this nature: You will then do me honour if the cipher fixed and carved in the front of my little fishing-house may be here explained: And, to permit me to attend you in public, who in private, have ever been, am, and ever resolve to be  
Sir, Your most affectionate Son and Servant Charles Cotton. Berisford 10th. of March 1675-76.   

THE COMPLETE ANGLER; OR, The Contemplative Man's Recreation.  

PART. II.  

CHAP. I.  
Piscator Junior & Viator.  PISCAT. 
You are happily overtaken Sir; may a man be so bold as to inquire how far you travel this way?  Viator. 
Yes sure Sir very freely; though it be a question I cannot very well resolve you; as not knowing myself how far it is to Ashborn, where I intent to night to take up my Inn.  Piscat. 
Why then Sir, seeing I perceive you to be a Stranger in these parts; I shall take upon me to inform you, that from the Town you last came through, called Brelsford, it is five miles, and you are not yet above half a mile on this side.  Viat. 
So much! I was told it was but ten miles from Derby, and methinks I have road almost so far already.  Piscat. 
O Sir, find no fault with large measure of good Land, which Derbyshire abounds in, as much as most Counties of England.  Viat. 
It may be so, and good Land I confess affords a pleasant prospect: but by your good leave Sir, large measure of foul way is not altogether so acceptable.  Piscat. 
True Sir, but the foul way serves to justify the fertility of the soil; according to the Proverb: There is good Land, where there is foul way; and is of good use to inform you of the Riches of the Country you are come into, and of its continual Travel, and Traffic to the Country Town you came from; which is also very observable by the fullness of its Road, and the loaden Horses you meet every where upon the way.  Viat. 
well Sir, I will be content to think as well of your Country, as you would desire, and I shall have a great deal of reason both to think, and to speak very well of you, If I may obtain the happiness of your company to the forementioned place, provided your affair lead you that way, and that they will permit you to slack your pace out of complacency to a Traveller utterly a Stranger in these parts, and who am still to wander further out of my own knowledge.  Piscat. 
Sir, you invite me to my own advantage, and I am ready to attend you: my way lying through that Town; but my business, that is, my home, some miles beyond it: however I shall have time enough to lodge you in your Quarters, and afterwards to perform my own Journey. In the mean time may I be so bold as to inquire the end of your Journey.  Viat. 
'Tis into Lancashire Sir, and about some business of concern to a near Relation of mine: for I assure you, I do not use to take so long Journeys, as from Essex upon the single account of pleasure.  Piscat. 
From thence Sir! I do not then wonder you should appear dissatisfied with the length of the Miles, and the foulness of the way: though I am sorry you should begin to quarrel with them so soon; for, believe me Sir, you will find the Miles much longer, and the way much worse before you come to your Journeys end.  Viat. 
Why truly Sir for that, I am prepared to expect the worst; but methinks the way is mended since I had the good fortune to fall into your good company.  Piscat. 
You are not obliged to my company for that: but because you are already past the worst, and the greatest part of your way to your Lodging.  Viat. 
I am very glad to hear it, both for the ease of myself, and my Horse; but especially because I may then expect a freer enjoyment of your conversation; though the shortness of the way will, I fear, make me lose it the sooner.  Piscat. 
That Sir is not worth your care; and I am sure you deserve much better, for being content with so ill company: but we have already talked away two Miles of your Journey; for from the Brook before us, that runs at the foot of this Sandy Hill, you have but three Miles to Ashborn.  Viat. 
I meet every where in this Country with these little Brooks, and they look as if they were full of Fish; have they not Trout in them?  Piscat. 
That is a question, which is to be excused in a Stranger as you are; otherwise, give me leave to tell you, it would seem a kind of affront to our Country, to make a doubt of what we pretend to be famous for, next, if not before, our Malt, Wool, Led, and Cole; for you are to understand, that we think we have as many fine Rivers, Rivulets, and Brooks, as any Country whatever, and they are all full of Trout, and some of them the best (it is said) by many degrees in England.  Viat. 
I was first Sir in love with you, and now shall be so enamoured of your Country by this account you give me of it, as to wish myself a Derbyshire Man, or at least that I might live in it: for you must know I am a pretender to the Angle, and doubtless a Trout affords the most pleasure to the Angler, of any sort of Fish whatever; and the best Trout, must needs make the best sport: But this Brook, and some others I have met with upon this way, are too full of Wood for that recreation.  Piscat. 
This Sir! why this, and several others like it, which you have past, and some that you are like to pass, have scarce any name amongst us: but we can show you as fine Rivers, and as clear from wood, or any other encumbrance to hinder an Angler, as any you ever saw; and for clear, beautiful streams, Hantshire itself, by Mr. Izaak Walton's good leave, can show none such; nor I think and Country in Europe.  Viat. 
You go far Sir in the praise of your Country Rivers, and I perceive have read Mr Walton's Complete Angler by your naming of Hantshire, and I pray what is your opinion of that Book?  Piscat. 
My Opinion of Mr. Walton's Book is the same with every Man's, that understands any thing of the Art of Angling, that it is an excellent good one, and that the forementioned Gentleman understands as much of Fish, and Fishing as any Man living: but I must tell you further, that I have the happiness to know his person, and to be intimately acquainted with him, and in him to know the worthiest Man, and to enjoy the best, and the truest Friend any Man ever had: nay, I shall yet acquaint you further, that he gives me leave to call him Father, and I hope is not yet ashamed to own me for his adopted Son.  Viat. 
In earnest Sir I am ravished to meet with a friend of Mr. Izaak Walton's, and one that does him so much right in so good and true a Character; for I must boast to you, that I have the good fortune to know him too, and came acquainted with him much after the same manner I do with you; that he was my Master who first taught me to love Angling, and then to become an Angler; and to be plain with you, I am the very Man deciphered in his Book under the name of Venator, for I was wholly addicted to the Chase; till he taught me as good, a more quiet, innocent, and less dangerous diversion.  Piscat. 
Sir, I think myself happy in your acquaintance, and before we part shall entreat leave to embrace you; you have said enough to recommend you to my best opinion; for my Father Walton will be seen twice in no Man's company he does not like, and likes none but such as he believes to be very honest men, which is one of the best Arguments, or at least of the best Testimonies I have, that I either am, or that he thinks me one of those, seeing I have not yet found him weary of me.  Viat. 
You speak like a true Friend, and in doing so render yourself worthy of his friendship. May I be so bold as to ask your name?  Piscat. 
Yes surely Sir, and if you please a much nicer question, my name is— and I intent to stay long enough in your company, if I find you do not dislike mine, to ask yours too. In the mean time, because we are now almost at Ashborn, I shall freely, and bluntly tell you, that I am a Brother of the Angle too, and peradventure can give you some instructions how to Angle for a Trout in a clear River, that my Father Walton himself will not disapprove, though he did either purposely omit, or did not remember them, when you, and he sat discoursing under the Sycamore Tree. And being you have already told me whether your Journey is intended, and that I am better acquainted with the Country than you are; I will hearty, and earnestly entreat, you will not think of staying at this Town: but go on with me six Miles further to my House, where you shall be extremely welcome; it is directly in your way, we have day enough to perform our Journey, & as you like your entertainment, you may there repose yourself a day or two; or as many more as your occasions will permit, to recompense the trouble of so much a longer Journey.  Viat. 
Sir, you surprise me with so friendly an invitation upon so short acquaintance: but how advantageous soever it would be to me, and that my haste perhaps is not so great, but it might dispense with such a divertisement as I promise myself in your Company; yet I cannot in modesty accept your offer, & must therefore beg your pardon: I could otherwise, I confess be glad to wait upon you, if upon no other account but to talk of Mr. I. Walton, and to receive those instructions you say you are able to give me for the deceiving a Trout; in which art I will not deny, but that I have an ambition to be one of the greatest deceivers; though I cannot forbear freely to tell you, that I think it hard to say much more, than has been read to me upon that subject.  Piscat. 
well Sir, I grant that too; but you must know that the variety of Rivers, require different ways of Angling: however you shall have the best Rules I am able to give, and I will tell you nothing I have not made myself as certain of, as any Man can be in thirty years' experience (for so long I have been a dabbler in that art) and that if you please to stay a few days, you shall not in a very great measure see made good to you. But of that hereafter, and now, Sir, if I am not mistaken I have half overcome you; and that I may wholly conquer that modesty of yours, I will take upon me to be so familiar as to say, you must accept my invitation, which that you may the more easily be persuaded to do, I will tell you that my House stands upon the margin of one of the finest Rivers for Trout, and grailing in England; that I have lately built a little Fishing House upon it, dedicated to Anglers, over the door of which you will see the two first Letters of my Father Walton's name and mine twisted in cipher; 
* as in the Title page.  that you shall lie in the same Bed he has sometimes been contented with, and have such Country entertainment, as my Friends sometimes accept, and be as welcome too, as the best Friend of them all.  Viat. 
No doubt Sir, but my Master Walton found good reason to be satisfied with his entertainment in your House; for you who are so friendly to a mere Stranger who deserves so little, must needs be exceedingly kind and free to him who deserves so much.  Piscat. 
Believe me, no! and such as are intimately acquainted with that Gentleman, know him to be a Man, who will not endure to be treated like a Stranger. So that his acceptation of my poor entertainments, has ever been a pure effect of his own humility, and good nature, and nothing else. But Sir, we are now going down the Spittle Hill into the Town, and therefore let me importune you suddenly to resolve, and most earnestly not to deny me.  Viat. 
In truth Sir, I am so overcome by your Bounty, that I find I cannot, but must render myself wholly to be disposed by you.  Piscat. 
Why that's hearty, and kindly spoken, and I as hearty thank you; and being you have abandoned yourself to my conduct, we will only call and drink a glass on Horseback at the Talbot, and away.  Viat. 
I attend you, but what pretty River is this, that runs under this Stone-Bridg? has it a name?  Piscat. 
Yes, 'Tis called Henmore, and has in it both Trout, and Grailing; but you will meet with one or two better anon. And so soon as we are passed through the Town, I will endeavour by such discourse as best likes you to pass away the time, till you come to your ill Quarters.  Viat. 
we can talk of nothing with which I shall be more delighted than of Rivers and Angling.  Piscat. 
Let those be the Subjects then, but we are now come to the Talbot, what will you drink Sir, Ale, or Wine.  Viat. 
Nay, I am for the Country liquor, Derbyshire Ale, if you please; for a Man should not methinks come from London to drink Wine in the Peak.  Piscat. 
You are in the right; and yet let me tell you, you may drink worse French-wine in many Taverns in London, than they have sometimes at this House. What ho! bring us a Flagon of your best Ale, and now Sir my service to you, a good health to the honest Gentleman you know of, and you are welcome into the Peak.  Viat. 
I thank you Sir, and present you my service again, and to all the honest Brothers of the Angle.  Piscat. 
I'll pledge you Sir, so, there's for your Ale, and farewell. Come Sir, let us be going; for the sun grows low, and I would have you look about you as you ride; for you will see an odd Country, and sights, that will seem strange to you.   

CHAP. II.  PISCAT. 
So Sir, now we are got to the top of the Hill out of Town, look about you, and tell me how you like the Country.  Viat. 
Bless me! what Mountains are here! are we not in Wales?  Piscat. 
No, but in almost as Mountainous a Country, and yet these Hills though high, bleak, and craggy, breed and feed good Beef, and Mutton above ground, and afford good store of Led within.  Viat. 
They had need of all those commodities to make amends for the ill Landscape: But I hope our way does not lie over any of these; for I dread a Precipice.  Piscat. 
Believe me but it does, and down one especially, that will appear a little terrible to a Stranger: though the way is passable enough, and so passable, that we who are Natives of these Mountains, and acquainted with them, disdain to alight.  Viat. 
I hope though that a Foreigner is privileged to use his own discretion, and that I may have the liberty to entrust my neck to the fidelity of my own feet, rather than to those of my Horse; for I have no more at home.  Piscat. 
'Twere hard else. But in the mean time I think 'twere best while this way is pretty even, to mend our pace, that we may be past that Hill I speak of, to the end your apprehension may not be doubled for want of light to discern the easiness of the descent.  Viat. 
I am willing to put forward as fast as my Beast will give me leave; though I fear nothing in your Company. But what pretty River is this we are going into?  Piscat. 
Why this Sir is called Bently Brook, and is full of very good Trout, and Grailing; but so encumbered with wood in many places, as is troublesome to an Angler.  Viat. 
Here are the prettiest Rivers, and the most of them in this Country that ever I saw; do you know how many you have in the Country?  Piscat. 
I know them all, and they were not hard to reckon, were it worth the trouble; but the most considerable of them I will presently name you. And to begin where we now are (for you must know we are now upon the very skirts of Derbyshire) we have first the River Dove, that we shall come to by and by, which divides the two Counties of Derby, and Stafford for many Miles together, and is so called from the swiftness of its current, and that swiftness occasioned by the declivity of its course, and by being so straitened in that course betwixt the Rocks; by which, and those very high ones, it is hereabout for four, or five Miles confined into a very narrow stream. A River that from a contemptible Fountain (which I can cover with my Hat) by the confluence of other Rivers, Rivulets, Brooks, and Rills, is swelled, (before it fall into Trent a little below Egginton, (where it loses the name,) to such a breadth, and depth, as to be in most places navigable, were not the passage frequently interrupted with Fords, and Wires, and has as fertile Banks, as any River in England, none excepted. And this River from its head for a Mile or two is a black water (as all the rest of the Derbyshire Rivers of note, originally are, for they all spring from the Mosses) but is in a few Miles travel so clarified by the addition of several clear, and very great springs (bigger than itself) which gush out of the Limestone Rocks, that before it comes to my House, which is but six, or seven Miles from its source, you will find it one of the purest Crystalline streams you have seen.  Viat. 
does Trent spring in these parts?  Piscat. 
Yes in these parts; not in this County, but somewhere towards the upper end of Stafford-shire, I think not far from a place called Trentham, and thence runs down not far from Stafford to Wolsly Bridge, and washing the skirts and purlieus of the Forest of Needwood runs down to Burton in the same County; thence it comes into this where we now are, and running by Swarkston, and Dunnington, receives Derwent at Wildon, and so to Nottingham, thence to Newark, and by Gainsborough, to Kingston upon Hull, where it takes the name of Humber, and thence falls into the Sea: but that the Map will best inform you.  Viat. 
Know you whence this River Trent derives its name?  Piscat. 
No indeed, and yet I have heard it often discoursed upon, when some have given its denomination from the forenamed Trentham; though that seems rather a derivative from it; others have said 'tis so called from thirty Rivers that fall into it, and there lose their names, which cannot be neither, because it carries that name from its very Fountain, before any other Rivers fall into it; others derive it from thirty several sorts of Fish that breed there, and that is the most likely derivation: But be it how it will, it is doubtless one of the finest Rivers in the World, and the most abounding with excellent Salmon, and all sorts of delicate Fish.  Viat. 
Pardon me Sir for tempting you into this digression, and then proceed to your other Rivers; for I am mightily delighted with this discourse.  Piscat. 
It was no interruption, but a very seasonable question; for Trent is not only one of our Derbyshire Rivers, but the chief of them, and into which all the rest pay the Tribute of their names; which I had perhaps forgot to insist upon, being got to the other end of the County, had you not awoke my memory. But I will now proceed, and the next River of note (for I will take them as they lie Eastward from us) is the River Wye; I say of note, for we have two lesser betwixt us and it, namely Lathkin, and Bradford, of which Lathkin is by many degrees the purest, and most transparent stream, that I ever yet saw either at home or abroad, and breeds 'tis said, the reddest, and the best Trout in England; but neither of these are to be reputed Rivers, being no better than great springs. The River Wye then has its source near unto Buxtons, a Town some ten Miles from hence, famous for a warm Bath, and which you are to ride through in your way to Manchester, a black water too at the Fountain; but by the same reason with Dove, becomes very soon a most delicate clear River, and breeds admirable Trout, and Grailing, reputed by those, who, by living upon its Banks are partial to it, the best of any, and this, running down by Ashford, Bakewell, and Haddon; at a Town a little lower called Rowsly falls into Derwent, and there loses its name. The next in order is Derwent a black water too, and that not only from its Fountain, but quite through its progress, not having these Crystal springs to wash and cleanse it, which the two forementioned have; but abounds with Trout and Grailing (such as they are) towards its source, and with Salmon below; and this River from the upper and utmost part of this County, where it springs, taking its course by Chatsworth, Darly, Matlock, Derby, Burrow-Ash, and Awberson, falls into Trent at a place called Wildon, and there loses its name. The East side of this County of Derby is bounded by little inconsiderable Rivers, as Awber, Eroways, and the like, scarce worth naming, but Trouty too, and further we are not to inquire. But Sir I have carried you, as a Man may say by water, till we are now come to the descent of the formidable Hill I told you of, at the foot of which runs the River Dove, which I cannot but love above all the rest, and therefore prepare yourself to be a little frighted.  Viat. 
Sir, I see you would fortify me, that I should not shame myself: but I dare follow where you please to lead me, and I see no danger yet; for the descent methinks is thus far green, even, and easy.  Pisc. 
You will like it worse presently when you come to the brow of the Hill, and now we are there, what think you?  Viat. 
What do I think? why I think it the strangest place that ever sure Men, and Horses went down, and that (if there be any safety at all) the safest way is to alight.  Pisc. 
I think so too for you, who are mounted upon a Beast not acquainted with these slippery stones; and though I frequently ride down, I will alight too to bear you company, and to lead you the way, and if you please my Man shall lead your Horse.  Viat. 
Marry Sir, and thank you too, for I am afraid I shall have enough to do to look to myself; and with my Horse in my hand should be in a double fear, both of breaking my neck, and my Horse's falling on me, for it is as steep as a penthouse.  Pisc. 
To look down from hence it appears so, I confess, but the path winds and turns, and will not be found so troublesome.  Viat. 
Would I were well down though! Hoist thee! there's one fair escape! these stones are so slippery I cannot stand! yet again! I think I were best lay my heels in my neck, and tumble down.  Pisc. 
If you think your heels will defend your neck, that is the way to be soon at the bottom; but give me your hand at this broad stone, and then the worst is past.  Viat. 
I thank you Sir, I am now passed it, I can go myself. What's here the sign of a Bridge? Do you use to Travel with wheel-barrows in this Country?  Pisc. 
Not that I ever saw Sir, why do you ask that question?  Viat. 
Because this Bridge certainly was made for nothing else; why a mouse can hardly go over it: 'Tis not two fingers broad.  Pisc. 
You are pleasant, and I am glad to see you so: but I have rid over the Bridge many a dark night.  Viat. 
Why according to the French proverb, and 'tis a good one among a great many of worse sense and sound that language abounds in, Ce que Diu garde, est bien gardé. They, whom God takes care of are in safe protection: but, let me tell you, I would not ride over it for a thousand pounds, nor fall off it for two; and yet I think I dare venture on foot, though if you were not by to laugh at me: I should do it on all four.  Pisc. 
Well Sir, your mirth becomes you, and I am glad to see you safe over, and now you are welcome into Stafford-shire.  Viat. 
How Stafford-shire! what do I there trow! there is not a word of Stafford-shire in all my direction.  Pisc. 
You see you are betrayed into it; but it shall be in order to something that will make amends; and 'tis but an ill Mile or two out of your way.  Viat. 
I believe all things Sir, and doubt nothing. Is this your beloved River Dove. 'Tis clear, and swift indeed, but a very little one.  Pisc. 
You see it here at the worst; we shall come to it anon again after two Miles riding, and so near as to lie upon the very Banks.  Viat. 
Would we were there once; but I hope we have no more of these Alps to pass over.  Pisc. 
No, no Sir, only this ascent before you, which you see is not very uneasy, and then you will no more quarrel with your way.  Viat. 
Well, if ever I come to London (of which many a Man there, if he were in my place would make a question;) I will sit down and write my Travels, and like Tom Coriate print them at my own charge. Pray what do you call this Hill we come down?  Pisc. 
We call it Hanson Toot.  Viat. 
Why farewell Hanson Toot, I'll no more on thee; I'll go twenty Miles about first: Push. I sweat, that my shirt sticks to my back.  Pisc. 
Come Sir, now we are up the Hill, and now how do you?  Viat. 
Why very well I humbly thank you Sir, and warm enough I assure you. What have we here, a Church! As I'm an honest Man a very pretty Church! Have you Churches in this Country Sir?  Pisc. 
You see we have: but had you seen none, why should you make that doubt Sir?  Viat. 
Why, if you will not be angry, I'll tell you, I thought myself a Stage, or two beyond Christendom.  Pisc. 
Come, come, we'll reconcile you to our Country before we part with you; if showing you good sport with Angling will do't.  Viat. 
My respect to you, and that together may do much Sir; otherwise, to be plain with you, I do not find myself much inclined that way.  Pisc. 
Well Sir, your raillery upon our Mountains has brought us almost home; and look you where the same River of Dove has again met us to bid you welcome, and to invite you to a dish of Trout to morrow.  Viat. 
Is this the same we saw at the foot of Penmen-Maure? It is much a finer River here.  Pisc. 
It will appear yet much finer to morrow. But look you Sir here appears the House, that is now like to be your Inn, for want of a better.  Viat. 
It appears on a sudden, but not before 'twas looked for, it stands prettily, and here's wood about it too, but so young, as appears to be of your own planting.  Pisc. 
It is so, will it please you to alight Sir; and now permit me after all your pains and dangers to take you in my arms, and to assure you, that you are infinitely welcome.  Viat. 
I thank you Sir, and am glad with all my heart I am here, for, in down right truth, I am exceeding weary.  Pisc. 
You will sleep so much the better; you shall presently have a light supper, and to bed. Come, Sirs, lay the Cloth, and bring what you have presently, and let the Gentleman's Bed be made ready in the mean time in my Father Waltons' Chamber; and now Sir here is my service to you, and once more welcome.  Viat. 
I marry Sir this glass of good Sack has refreshed me, and I'll make as bold with your meat; for the Trot has got me a good stomach.  Pisc. 
Come Sir fall to then, you see my little supper is always ready when I come home, and I'll make no Stranger of you.  Viat. 
That your Meal is so soon ready is a sign your Servants know your certain hours, Sir; I confess I did not expect it so soon; but now 'tis here, you shall see I will make myself no Stranger.  Pisc. 
Much good do your heart, and I thank you for that friendly word: and now Sir my service to you in a Cup of Morelands Ale: for you are now in the Morelands, but within a spit, and a stride of the peak; fill my Friend his Glass.  Viat. 
Believe me you have good Ale in the Morelands; far better than that at Ashborn.  Pisc. 
That it may soon be: for Ashborn has (which is a kind of a Riddle) always in it the best Malt, and the worst Ale in England. Come take away, and bring us some pipes, and a bottle of Ale, and go to your own Suppers. Are you for this diet Sir?  Viat. 
Yes Sir, I am for one pipe of Tobacco; and I perceive yours is very good by the smell.  Pisc. 
The best I can get in London I assure you: But Sir, now you have thus far complied with my designs, as to take a troublesome Journey into an ill Country, only to satisfy me; how long may I hope to enjoy you?  Viat. 
Why truly Sir, as long as I conveniently can; and longer I think you would not have me.  Pisc. 
Not to your inconvenience by any means Sir, but I see you are weary, and therefore I will presently wait on you to your Chamber, where take Counsel of your pillow, and to morrow resolve me. Here take the lights, and pray follow them, Sir; Here you are like to lie, and now I have showed you your Lodging, I beseech you command any thing you want, and so I wish you good rest.  Viat. 
Good night Sir.   

CHAP. III.  PISC. 
Good morrow Sir, what up and dressed so early?  Viat. 
Yes Sir, I have been dressed this half hour; for I rested so well, and have so great a mind either to take, or to see a Trout taken in your fine River, that I could no longer lie a bed.  Pisc. 
I am glad to see you so brisk this morning, and so eager of sport; though I must tell you, this day proves so calm, and the Sun rises so bright, as promises no great success to the Angler: but however we'll try, and one way or other we shall sure do something. What will you have to your breakfast, or what will you drink this Morning.  Viat. 
For Breakfast I never eat any, and for Drink am very indifferent; but if you please to call for a Glass of Ale, I'm for you; and let it be quickly if you please: for I long to see the little Fishing-house you spoke of, and to be at my Lesson.  Pisc. 
Well Sir, You see the Ale is come without Calling; for though I do not know yours, my people know my diet, which is always one Glass so soon as I am dressed, and no more till Dinner, and so my Servants have served you.  Viat. 
My thanks, and now if you please let us look out this fine morning.  Pisc. 
With all my heart, Boy take the Key of my Fishing-house, and carry down those two Angle-Rods in the Hall window thither, with my Fish-pannier, Pouch, and landing Net, and stay you there till we come. Come Sir we'll walk after, where by the way I expect you should raise all the exceptions against our Country you can.  Viat. 
Nay Sir, do not think me so ill natured, nor so uncivil, I only made a little bold with it last night to divert you, and was only in jest.  
You were then in as good earnest as I am now with you: but had you been really angry at it, I could not blame you: For, to say the truth, it is not very taking at first sight: But look you, Sir, now you are abroad, does not the Sun shine as bright here as in Essex, Middlesex, or Kent, or any of your Southern Countries?  Viat. 
'Tis a delicate Morning indeed, and I now think this a marvellous pretty place.  Pisc. 
Whether you think so or no, you cannot oblige me more than to say so; and those of my friends who know my humour, and are so kind as to comply with it, usually flatter me that way. But look you Sir, now you are at the brink of the Hill, how do you like my River, the Vale it winds through like a Snake, and the situation of my little Fishing-house?  Viat. 
Trust me 'tis all very fine, and the house seems at this distance a neat building.  Pisc. 
Good enough for that purpose; and here is a bowling Green too, close by it, so though I am myself no very good bowler, I am not totally devoted to my own pleasure; but that I have also some regard to other men's. And now Sir you are come to the door, pray walk in, and there we will sit, and talk as long as you please.  Viat. 
Stay, what's here over the door? Piscatoribus sacrum. 
* There is under this Motto, the Cifer mentioned in the Title Page and some part of the Fishing-house has been described; but, the pleasantness of the River, Mountains, and Meadows about it, cannot; unless Sir Philip Sidney, or Mr. Cotton's Father were again alive to do it.  Why then I perceive I have some Title here, for I am one of them, though one of the worst, and here below it is the Cifer too you spoke of, and 'tis prettily contrived. Has my Master Walton ever been here to see it; for it seems new built?  Pisc. 
Yes he saw it cut in the stone before it was set up; but never in the posture it now stands: for the house was but building when he was last here, and not raised so high as the Arch of the door, and I am afraid he will not see it yet; for he has lately writ me word he doubts his coming down this Summer, which I do assure you was the worst news he could possibly have sent me.  Viat. 
Men must sometimes mind their affairs to make more room for their pleasures; and 'tis odds he is as much displeased with the business, that keeps him from you, as you are that he comes not. But I am the most pleased with this little house of any thing I ever saw: It stands in a kind of Peninsula too, with a delicate clear River about it. I dare hardly go in, lest I should not like it so well within as without; but by your leave, I'll try. Why, this is better and better, fine lights, finely wainscoted, and all exceeding neat, with a Marble Table and all in the middle!  Pisc. 
Enough, Sir, enough, I have laid open to you the part where I can worst defend myself, and now you attaque me there. Come Boy set two Chairs, and whilst I am taking a Pipe of Tobacco, which is always my Breakfast, we will, if you please, talk of some other Subject.  Viat. 
None fit than Sir for the time and place, than those Instructions you promised.  Pisc. 
I begin to doubt, by something I discover in you, whether I am able to instruct you, or no; though, if you are really a stranger to our clear Northern Rivers I still think I can; and therefore, since it is yet too early in the morning at this time of the year, to day being but the Seventh of March, to cast a Fly upon the water, if you will direct me what kind of Fishing for a Trout I shall read you a Lecture on, I am willing and ready to obey you.  Viat. 
Why Sir, if you will so far oblige me, and that it may not be too troublesome to you, I would entreat you would run through the whole body of it; and I will not conceal from you, that I am so far in love with you, your courtesy, and pretty Moreland Seat, as to resolve to stay with you long enough by Intervals (for I will not oppress you) to hear all you can say upon that Subject.  Pisc. 
You cannot oblige me more than by such a promise, and therefore without more Ceremony I will begin to tell you; that my Father Walton having read to you before, it would look like a presumption in me, and peradventure would do so in any other man, to pretend to give Lessons for angling after him, who I do really believe understands as much of it, at least as any man in England, did I not pre-acquaint you, that I am not tempted to it by any vain opinion of myself, that I am able to give you better directions; but having from my Childhood pursued the recreation of angling in very clear Rivers (truly I think by much (some of them at least) the clearest in this Kingdom) and the manner of Angling here with us by reason of that exceeding clearness, being something different from the method commonly used in others, which by being not near so bright, admit of stronger tackle, and allow a nearer approach to the stream; I may peradventure give you some Instructions, that may be of use even in your own Rivers, and shall bring you acquainted with more Flies, and show you how to make them, and with what dubbing too, than he has taken notice of in his Complete Angler.  
I beseech you Sir do, and if you will lend me your Steel, I will light a Pipe the while, for that is commonly my Breakfast in a morning too.   

CHAP. IU.  PISC. 
Why then Sir, to begin methodically, as a Master in any Art should do (and I will not deny, but that I think myself a Master in this) I shall divide Angling for Trout or Grailing into these three ways, 

At the Top,  
At the bottom, and  
In the Middle.   Which three ways, though they are all of them (as I shall hereafter endeavour to make it appear) in some sort common to both those kinds of Fish; yet are they not so generally and absolutely so, but that they will necessarily require a distinction, which in due place I will also give you. 

That whicb we call Angling at the top, is with a Fly;  
At the bottom with a ground-bait.  
In the middle with a Minnow, or Ground-bait.   Angling at the Top is of two sorts, 

With a quick Fly: or,  
With an artificial Flie.   That we call Angling at the bottom is also of two sorts, 

By hand: or  
With a Cork, or Float.   That we call Angling in the middle is also of two sorts. 

With a Minnow for a Trout: or  
With a Ground-bait for a Grailing.   Of all which several sorts of Angling, I will, if you can have the patience to hear me, give you the best account I can.  Viat. 
The trouble will be yours, and mine the pleasure and the obligation: I beseech you therefore to proceed.  Pisc. 
Why then first of Flie-Fishing.   

CHAP. V.  
Of Flie-Fishing.  PISC. 
Flie-Fishing or Fishing at the top, is, as I said before, of two sorts, 

With a natural and living Fly: or,  
With an artificial and made Flie.    
First then of the natural Fly; of which we generally use but two sorts, and those but in the two months of May and June only, namely the Green Drake, and the Stone-Flies; though I have made use of a third that way, called the Chamblet-Flie with very good success for Grailing, but never saw it angled with by any other after this manner, my Master only excepted, who did many years ago, and was one of the best Anglers, that ever I knew.  
These are to be angled with, with a short Line, not much more than half the length of your Rod, if the air be still, or with a longer very near, or all out as long as your Rod, if you have any wind to carry it from you, and this way of Fishing we call Daping, Dabbing or Dibling, wherein you are always to have your Line flying before you up or down the River as the wind serves, and to angle as near as you can to the bank of the same side whereon you stand, though where you see a Fish rise near you, you may guide your quick Fly over him, whether in the middle, or on the contrary side, and if you are pretty well out of sight, either by kneeling, or the Interposition of a bank, or bush, you may almost be sure to raise, and take him too, if it be presently done; the Fish will otherwise peradventure be removed to some other place, if it be in the still deeps, where he is always in motion, and roving up and down to look for prey, though in a stream, you may always almost, especially if there be a good stone near, find him in the same place. Your Line ought in this Case to be three good hairs next the hook, both by reason you are in this kind of angling, to expect the biggest Fish, and also that wanting length to give him Line after he is struck, you must be forced to tug for't; to which I will also add, that not an Inch of your Line being to be suffered to touch the water in dibbling; it may be allowed to be the stronger. I should now give you a Description of those Flies, their shape and colour, and then give you an account of their breeding, and withal show you how to keep and use them; but shall defer that to their proper place and season.  Viat. 
In earnest, Sir, you discourse very rationally of this affair, and I am glad to find myself mistaken in you; for in plain truth I did not expect so much from you.  Pisc. 
Nay Sir, I can tell you a great deal more than this, and will conceal nothing from you. But I must now come to the second way of angling at the top, which is with an artificial Fly, which also I will show you how to make before I have done, but first shall acquaint you, that with this you are to angle with a Line longer by a yard and a half, or sometimes two yards than your Rod, and with both this, and the other in a still day in the streams, in a breeze, that curls the water in the still deeps, where (excepting in May and June, that the best Trout will lie in shallow streams to watch for prey, and even then too) you are like to hit the best Fish.  
For the length of your Rod you are always to be governed by the breadth of the River you shall choose to angle at; and for a Trout River, one of five or six yards long is commonly enough, and longer (though never so neatly and artificially made) it ought not to be, if you intent to Fish at ease, and if otherwise, where lies the sport?  
Of these, the best that ever I saw are made in Yorkshire, which are all of one piece; that is to say, of several, six, eight, ten or twelve pieces, so neatly pieced, and tied together with fine thread below, and Silk above, as to make it taper, like a switch, and to ply with a true bent to your hand; and these are too light, being made of Fir wood, for two or three lengths, nearest to the hand, and of other wood nearer to the top, that a Man might very easily manage the longest of them that ever I saw, with one hand; and these when you have given over Angling for a season, being taken to pieces, and laid up in some dry place, may afterwards be set together again in their former postures, and will be as straight, sound, and good as the first hour they were made, and being laid in Oil and colour according to your Master Waltons' direction, will last many years.  
The length of your line, to a Man that knows how to handle his Rod, and to cast it, is no manner of encumbrance, excepting in woody places, and in landing of a Fish, which every one that can afford to Angle for pleasure, has some body to do for him, and the length of line is a mighty advantage to the fishing at distance; and to fish fine, and far off is the first and principal Rule for Trout Angling.  
Your Line in this case should never be less, nor ever exceed two hairs next to the hook, for one (though some I know will pretend to more Art, than their fellows) is indeed too few, the least accident, with the finest hand being sufficient to break it: but he that cannot kill a Trout of twenty inches long with two, in a River clear of wood and weeds, as this and some others of ours are, deserves not the name of an Angler.  
Now to have your whole line as it ought to be, two of the first lengths, nearest the hook, should be of two hairs a piece, the next three lengths above them of three, the next three above them of four, and so of five, and six, and seven, to the very top: by which means your Rod and tackle will in a manner be taper from your very hand to your hook; your line will fall much better and straiter, and cast your Fly to any certain place to which the hand and eye shall direct it, with less weight and violence, that would otherwise circled the water, and fright away the fish.  
In casting your line, do it always before you, and so that your fly may first fall upon the water, and as little of your line with it as is possible, though if the wound be stiff, you will then of necessity be compelled to drown a good part of your line to keep your fly in the water: and in casting your fly, you must aim at the further, or nearer Bank, as the wind serves your turn, which also will be with, and against you on the same side several times in an hour, as the River winds in its course, and you will be forced to Angle up and down by turns accordingly; but are to endeavour, as much as you can, to have the wind evermore on your back, and always be sure to stand as far off the Bank as your length will give you leave when you throw to the contrary side, though when the wind will not permit you so to do, and that you are constrained to Angle on the same side whereon you stand, you must then stand on the very brink of the River, and cast your Fly at the utmost length of your Rod and Line, up or down the River as the gale serves.  
It only remains, touching your Line, to inquire whether your two hairs next to the hook, are better twisted, or open; and for that, I should declare that I think the open way the better, because it makes less show in the water, but that I have found an inconvenience, or two, or three, that have made me almost weary of that way; of which one is, that without dispute they are not so strong twisted, as open; another, that they are not easily to be fastened of so exact an equal length in the arming, that the one will not cause the other to bag, by which means a Man has but one hair, upon the matter, to trust to; and the last is, that these lose flying hairs are not only more apt to catch upon every twig, or bent they meet with; but moreover the hook, in falling upon the water, will very often rebound, and fly back betwixt the hairs, and there stick (which in a rough water especially, is not presently to be discerned by the Angler) so as the point of the hook shall stand reversed, by which means your Fly swims backward, makes a much greater circle in the water, and till taken home to you, and set right, will never raise any Fish, or if it should, I am sure, but by a very extraordinary chance, can hit none.  
Having done with both these ways of fishing at the top; the length of your Rod, and Line and all: I am next to teach you how to make a Fly; and afterwards of what dubbing you are to make the several Flies I shall hereafter name to you.  
In making a Fly then (which is not a Hackle or Palmer Fly for of those, and their several kinds we shall have occasion to speak every Month in the Year) you are first to hold your hook fast betwixt the fore finger and thumb of your left hand, with the back of the shanck upwards, and the point towards your finger's end; then take a strong small silk of the colour of the Fly you intent to make, wax it well with wax of the same colour too (to which end you are always (by the way) to have wax of all colours about you) and draw it betwixt your finger and thumb, to the head of the shanck, and then whip it twice or thrice about the bare hook, which, you must know, is done, both to prevent slipping, and also that the shanck of the hook may not cut the hairs of your Towght, which sometimes it will otherwise do) which being done, take your Line, and draw it likewise betwixt your finger and thumb, holding the Hook so fast, as only to suffer it to pass by, until you have the knot of your Towght almost to the middle of the shanck of your hook, on the inside of it, then whip your silk twice or thrice about both hook and Line, as hard as the strength of the silk will permit, which being done, strip the feather for the wings proportionable to the bigness of your Fly, placing that side downwards, which grew uppermost before, upon the back of the hook, leaving so much only as to serve for the length of the wing of the point of the plume, lying reversed from the end of the shanck upwards, then whip your silk twice, or thrice about the root end of the feather, hook, and towght, which being done clip off the root end of the feather close by the arming, and then whip the silk fast and firm about the hook, and taught until you come to the bend of the hook: but not further (as you do at London; and so make a very unhandsome, and, in plain English, a very unnatural and shapeless Fly) which being done, cut away the end of your taught, and fasten it, and then take your dubbing which is to make the body of your Fly, as much as you think convenient, and holding it lightly, with your hook, betwixt the finger, and thumb of your left hand, take your silk with the right, and twisting it betwixt the finger and thumb of that hand, the dubbing will spin itself about the silk, which when it has done, whip it about the armed hook backward, till you come to the setting on of the wings; and then take the feather for the wings, and divide it equally into two parts, and turn them back towards the bend of the Hook, the one on the one side, and the other on the other of the shanck, holding them fast in that posture betwixt the fore finger, and thumb of your left hand, which done, warp them so down, as to stand, and slope towards the bend of the hook, and having warped up to the end of the shanck, hold the Fly fast betwixt the finger and thumb of your left hand, and then take the silk betwixt the finger, and thumb of your right hand, and where the warping ends, pinch or nip it with your thumb nail against your finger, and strip away the remainder of your dubbing from the silk, and then with the bare silk whip it once or twice about, make the wings to stand in due order, fasten, and cut it off; after which with the point of a needle raise up the dubbing gently from the warp, twitch off the superfluous hairs of your dubbing, leave the wings of an equal length (your Fly will never else swim true) and the work is done. And this way of making a Fly (which is certainly the best of all other) was taught me by a Kinsman of mine, one Captain Henry Jackson, a near neighbour, an admirable Fly Angler, by many degrees the best Fly maker, that ever I yet met with. And now that I have told you how a Fly is to be made, you shall presently see me make one, with which you may peradventure take a Trout this morning, notwithstanding the unlikeliness of the day; for it is now nine of the Clock, and Fish will begin to rise, if they will rise to day; I will walk along by you, and look on, and after dinner I will proceed in my lecture of Flie-Fishing.  Viat. 
I confess I long to be at the River, and yet I could sit here all day to hear you: but some of the one, and some of the other will do well: and I have a mighty ambition to take a Trout in your River Dove.  Pisc. 
I warrant you shall: I would not for more, than I will speak of but you should, seeing I have so extolled my River to you: nay I will keep you here a Month, but you shall have one good day of sport before you go.  Viat. 
You will find me I doubt too tractable that way; for in good earnest, if business would give me leave, and that if it were fit, I could find in my heart to stay with you for ever.  Pisc. 
I thank you Sir, for that kind expression, and now let me look out my things to make this fly.   

CHAP. VI  PISC. 
Boy, come give me my dubbing bag here presently; and now Sir, since I find you so honest a man, I will make no scruple to lay open my Treasure before you.  Viat. 
Did every any one see the like! What a heap of Trumpery is here! certainly never an Angler in Europe has his shop half so well furnished, as you have.  Pisc. 
You perhaps may think now, that I rake together this Trumpery, as you call it, for show only, to the end that such as see it (which are not many I assure you) may think me a great Master in the Art of angling: but let me tell you here are some colours (as contemptible as they seem here) that are very hard to be got, and scarce any one of them, which if it should be lost, I should not miss, and be concerned about the loss of it too, once in the year; but look you, Sir, amongst all these I will choose out these two colours only, of which this is Bears-hair, this darker no great matter what; but I am sure I have killed a great deal of Fish with it; and with one or both of these you shall take Trout or Grailing this very day, notwithstanding all disadvantages, or my Art shall fail me.  Viat. 
You promise comfortably, and I have a great deal of reason to believe every thing you say; but I wish the Fly were made, that we were at it.  Pisc. 
That will not be long in doing: and pray observe then. You see first how I hold my hook, and thus I begin. Look you here are my first two or three whips about the bare hook, thus I join hook and line, thus I put on my wings, thus I twirl and lap on my dubbing, thus I work it up towards the head, thus I part my wings, thus I nip my superfluous dubbing from my silk, thus fasten, thus trim and adjust my Fly, and there's a Fly made, and now how do you like it?  Viat. 
In earnest, admirably well, and it perfectly resembles a Fly; but we about London make the bodies of our Flies both much bigger and longer, so long as even almost to the very beard of the Hook.  Pisc. 
I know it very well, and had one of those Flies given me by an honest Gentleman, who came with my Father Walton to give me a Visit, which (to tell you the truth) I hung in my parlour Window to laugh at: but Sir, you know the Proverb, They who go to Rome, must do as they at Rome do; and believe me you must here make your Flies after this fashion, or you will take no Fish. Come I will look you out a Line, and you shall put it on, and try it. There Sir, now I think you are fitted, and now beyond the farther end of the walk you shall begin, I see at that bend of the water above, the air crisps the water a little, knit your Line first here, and then go up thither, and see what you can do.  Viat. 
Did you see that Sir?  Pisc. 
Yes, I saw the Fish, and he saw you too, which made him turn short, you must fish further off, if you intent to have any sport here, this is no New-River let me tell you. That was a good Trout believe me, did you touch him?  Viat. 
No, I would I had, we would not have parted so. Look you there was another; this is an excellent File.  Pisc. 
That Fly I am sure would kill Fish, if the day were right; but they only chew at it I see, and will not take it. Come Sir, let us return back to the Fishing-house; this still water I see will not do our business to day; you shall now, if you please, make a Fly yourself, and try what you can do in the streams with that, and I know a Trout taken with a Fly of your own making will please you better than twenty with one of mine. Give me that Bag again, Sirrah; look you Sir, there is a hook, taught, silk, and a feather for the wings, be doing with those, and I will look you out a Dubbing, that I think will do.  Viat. 
This is a very little hook.  Pisc. 
That may serve to inform you, that it is for a very little Fly, and you must make your wings accordingly; for as the case stands it must be a little Fly, and a very little one too, that must do your business. Well said! believe me you shift your fingers very handsomely; I doubt I have taken upon me to teach my Master. So here's your dubbing now.  Viat. 
This dubbing is very black.  Pisc. 
It appears so in hand; but step to the doors and hold it up betwixt your eye and the Sun, and it will appear a shining red; let me tell you never a man in England can discern the true colour of a dubbing any way but that, and therefore choose always to make your Flies on such a bright Sunshine day as this, which also you may the better do, because it is worth nothing to fish in, here put it on, and be sure to make the body of your Fly as slender as you can. Very good! Upon my word you have made a marvellous handsome Flie.  Viat. 
I am very glad to hear it; 'tis the first that ever I made of this kind in my life.  Pisc. 
Away, away! You are a Doctor at it! but I will not commend you too much, left I make you proud. Come put it on, and you shall now go downward to some streams betwixt the rocks below the little foot bridge you see there, and try your Fortune. Take heed of slipping into the water as you follow me under this rock: So now you are over, and now throw in.  Viat. 
This is a fine stream indeed: There's one! I have him!  Pisc. 
And a precious catch you have of him; pull him out! I see you have a tender hand: This is a diminutive Gentleman, even throw him in again, and let him grow till he be more worthy your anger.  Viat. 
Pardon me, Sir, all's Fish that comes to''th' hook with me now. Another!  Pisc. 
And of the same standing.  Viat. 
I see I shall have good sport now: Another! and a Grailing. Why you have Fish here at will.  Pisc. 
Come, come, cross the Bridge, and go down the other side lower, where you will find finer streams, and better sport I hope than this. Look you Sir, here is a fine stream now, you have length enough, stand a little further off, let me entreat you, and do but Fish this stream like an Artist, and peradventure a good Fish may fall to your share. How now! what is all gone?  Viat. 
No, I but touched him; but that was a Fish worth taking.  Pisc. 
Why now let me tell you, you lost that Fish by your own fault, and through your own eagerness and haste; for you are never to offer to strike a good Fish, if he do not strike himself, till first you see him turn his head after he has taken your Fly, and then you can never strain your tackle in the striking, if you strike with any manner of moderation. Come throw in one again, and fish me this stream by inches; for I assure you here are very good Fish, both Trout and Grailing, lie here; and at that great stone on the other side, 'tis ten to one a good Trout gives you the meeting.  Viat. 
I have him now, but he is gone down towards the bottom, I cannot see what he is▪ yet he should be a good Fish by his weight; but he makes no great stir.  Pisc. 
Why then, by what you say, I dare venture to assure you, 'tis a Grailing, who is one of the deadest hearted Fishes in the world, and the bigger he is the more easily taken. Look you, now you see him plain; I told you what he was, bring hither that landing net, Boy, and now Sir, he is your own; and believe me a good one, sixteen Inches long I warrant him, I have taken none such this year.  Viat. 
I never saw a Grailing before look so black.  Pisc. 
Did you not? Why then let me tell you, that you never saw one before in right season: for then a Grailing is very black about his head, guills, and down his back, and has his Belly of a dark grey, dappled with black spots, as you see this is, and I am apt to conclude, that from thence he derives his name of Umber. Though I must tell you this Fish is passed his prime, and gins to decline, and was in better season at Christmas than he is now. But move on, for it grows towards dinnertime, and there is a very great and fine stream below, under that Rock, that fills the deepest pool in all the River, where you are almost sure of a good Fish.  Viat. 
Let him come, I'll try a fall with him; but I had thought, that the Grailing had been always in season with the Trout, and had come in, and gone out with him.  
Oh no! assure yourself a Grailing is a winter-fish: but such a one as would deceive any but such as know him very well indeed; for his flesh, even in his worst season, is so firm, and will so easily calver, that in plain truth he is very good meat at all times; but in his perfect season (which, by the way, none but an overgrown Grailing will ever be) I think him so good a fish, as to be little inferior to the best Trout that ever I tasted in my life.  Viat. 
Here's another skip-jack, and I have raised five or six more at least whilst you were speaking: Well, go thy way little Dove! thou art the finest River, that ever I saw, and the fullest of fish. Indeed, Sir, I like it so well, that I am afraid you will be troubled with me once a year, so long as we two live.  Pisc. 
I am afraid I shall not Sir; but were you once here a May or a June, if good sport would tempt you, I should then expect you would sometimes see me; for you would then say it were a fine River indeed, if you had once seen the sport at the height.  Viat. 
Which I will do, if I live, and that you please to give me leave, there was one, and there another.  Pisc. 
And all this in a strange River, and with a Fly of your own making! why what a dangerous man are you!  Viat. 
I, Sir, but who taught me? and as Dametas says by his man Dorus, so you may say by me, 
If my man such praises have,  
What then have I, that taught the Knave?   
But what have we got here? A Rock springing up in the middle of the River! this is one of the oddest sights, that ever I saw.  Pisc. 
Why, Sir, from that Pike 
† 'Tis a Rock, in the foshion of a Spire-Steeple; and, almost as big. It stands in the midst of the River Dove; and not far from Mr. Cotton's house, below which place this delicate River takes a swift Career betwixt many mighty Rocks, much higher and bigger than St Paul's Church, before ' was burnt. And this Dove being opposed by one of the highest of them, has at last, forced itself away through it; and after a miles concealment, appears again with more glory and beauty than before that opposition; running through the most pleasant Valleys and most fruitful Meadows, that this Nation can justly boast of. , that you see standing up there distant from the rock, this is called Pike-Pool: and young Mr. Izaac Walton was so pleased with it, as to draw it in Landscape in black and white in a blank Book I have at home, as he has done several prospects of my house also, which I keep for a memorial of his favour, and will show you, when we come up to dinner.  Viat. 
Has young Master Izaak Walton been here too?  Pisc. 
Yes marry has he Sir, and that again, and again too, and in France since, and at Rome, and at Venice, and I can't tell where: but I intent to ask him a great many hard questions so soon as I can see him, which will be, God willing, next Month. In the mean time, Sir, to come to this fine stream at the head of this great Pool, you must venture over these slippery cobbling stones; believe me, Sir, there you were nimble or else you had been down; but now you are got over, look to yourself; for on my word if a Fish rise here, he is like to be such a one, as will endanger your tackle: How now!  Viat. 
I think you have such command here over the Fishes, that you can raise them by your word, as they say Conjurers can do Spirits, and afterward make them do what you bid them: for here's a Trout has taken my Fly, I had rather have lost a Crown. What luck's this! He was a lovely Fish, and turned up a side like a Salmon.  Pisc. 
O Sir, this is a War where you sometimes win, and must sometimes expect to lose; Never concern yourself for the loss of your Fly; for ten to one I teach you to make a better. Who's that calls?  Seru. 
Sir, Will it please you to come to dinner?  Pisc. 
We come. You hear Sir we are called, and now take your choice, whether you will climb this steep Hill before you, from the top of which you will go directly into the House, or back again over these stepping stones, and about by the Bridg.  Viat. 
Nay, sure the nearest way is best; at least my stomach tells me so; and I am now so well acquainted with your Rocks, that I fear them not.  Pisc. 
Come then, follow me, and so soon as we have dined; we will down again to the little House; where I will begin at the place I left off about Flie-Fishing, and read you another Lecture; for I have a great deal more to say upon that Subject.  Viat. 
The more the better; I could never have met with a more obliging Master, my first excepted; nor such sport can all the Rivers about London ever afford, as is to be found in this pretty River.  Pisc. 
You deserve to have better, both because I see you are willing to take pains, and for liking this little so well; and better I hope to show you before we part.   

CHAP. VII.  VIAT. 
Come Sir, having now well dined, and being again set in your little House; I will now challenge your promise, and entreat you to proceed in your instruction for Flie-fishing, which, that you may be the better encouraged to do, I will assure you, that I have not lost, I think, one syllable of what you have told me; but very well retain all your directions both for the Rod, Line, and making a Fly, and now desire an account of the Flies themselves.  Pisc. 
Why Sir, I am ready to give it you, and shall have the whole afternoon to do it in, if no body come in to interrupt us; for you must know (besides the unfitness of the day) that the afternoons so early in March signify very little to Angling with a Fly, though with a Minnow, or a Worm something might (I confess) be done.  
To begin then where I left off, my Father Walton tells us but of 12 Artificial flies only, to Angle with at the top, and gives their names; of which some are common with us here; and I think I guess at most of them by his description, and I believe they all breed, and are taken in our Rivers, though we do not make them either of the same Dubbing, or fashion. And it may be in the Rivers about London, which I presume he has most frequented, and where 'tis likely he has done most execution, there is not much notice taken of many more: but we are acquainted with several others here (though perhaps I may reckon some of his by other names too) but if I do, I shall make you amends by an addition to his Catalogue. And although the forenamed great Master in the Art of Angling (for so in truth he is) tells you that no man should in honesty catch a Trout till the middle of March, yet I hope he will give a Man leave sooner to take a Grailing, which, as I told you, is in the dead Months in his best season; and do assure you (which I remember by a very remarkable token) I did once take upon the sixth day of December one, and only one, of the biggest Grayling and the best in season, that ever I yet saw, or tasted; and do usually take Trout too, and with a Fly, not only before the middle of this Month, but almost every year in February, unless it be a very ill spring indeed, and have sometimes in January, so early as New-years-tide, and in frost and snow taken Grailing in a warm sunshine day for an hour or two about Noon; and to fish for him with a Grub it is then the best time of all.  
I shall therefore begin my Flie-fishing with that Month (though I confess very few begin so soon, and that such as are so fond of the sport as to embrace all opportunities, can rarely in that Month find a day fit for their purpose) and tell you, that upon my knowledge these Flies in a warm sun, for an hour or two in the day, are certainly taken.  

January.  
1. A red brown with wings of the Male of a Malard almost white: the dubbing of the tail of a black long coated Cur, such as they commonly make muffs of; for the hair on the tail of such a Dog dies, and turns to a red Brown, but the hair of a smooth coated Dog of the same colour will not do, because it will not die, but retains its natural colour, and this fly is taken in a warm sun, this whole Month through.  
2. There is also a very little bright Dun Gnat, as little as can possibly be made, so little as never to be fished with, with above one hair next the hook, and this is to be made of a mixed dubbing of Martin's fur, and the white of a Hare's scut; with a very white, and small wing; and 'tis no great matter how fine you fish, for nothing will rise in this Month but a Grailing, and of them I never at this season saw any taken with a Fly, of above a foot long in my life: but of little ones about the bigness of a smelled in a warm day, and a glowing Sun, you may take enough with these two Fishes, and they are both taken the whole North through.   

February.  
1. Where the Red-brown of the last Month ends, another almost of the same colour gins with this, saving that the dubbing of this must be of something a blacker colour, and both of them warped on with red silk; the dubbing that should make this Fly, and that is the truest colour, is to be got of the black spot of a Hog's ear: not that a black spot in any part of the Hog will not afford the same colour; but that the hair in that place is by many degrees softer, and more fit for the purpose: his wing must be as the other, and this kills all this Month, and is called the lesser Red-brown.  
2. This Month also a plain Hackle, or palmer-Flie made with a rough black body, either of black Spaniel's fur, or the whirl of an Estridg feather, and the red Hackle of a Capon over all, will kill, and if the weather be right make very good sport.  
3. Also a lesser Hackle with a black body also, silver twist over that, and a red feather over all, will fill your pannier if the Month be open, and not bound up in Ice, and snow, with very good Fish; but in case of a frost and snow, you are to Angle only with the smallest Gnats, brown's and Duns you can make, and with those are only to expect Grayling no bigger, than sprats.  
4. In this Month, upon a whirling round water, we have a great Hackle, the body black, and wrapped with a red feather of a Capon untrimed; that is, the whole length of the Hackle staring out (for we sometimes barb the Hackle feather short all over; sometimes barb it only a little, and sometimes barb it close underneath, leaving the whole length of the feather on the top, or back of the Fly which makes it swim better, and as occasion serves kills very great Fish.  
5. We make use also in this Month of another great Hackle the body black, and ribbed over with Gold twist, and a red feather over all, which also does great execution.  
6. Also a great Dun, made with Dun Bears Hair, and the wings of the grey feather of a Mallard near unto his tail, which is absolutely the best Fly can be thrown upon a River this Month, and with which an Angler shall have admirable sport.  
7. We have also this Month the great blue Dun, the dubbing of the bottom of Bear's hair next to the roots, mixed with a little blue Camlet, the wings of the dark grey feather of a Mallard.  
8. We have also this Month a Dark-Brown, the dubbing of the brown hair of the Flank of a brinded Cow, and the wings of the grey-Drakes feather.  
And note, that these several Hackels, or Palmer Flies, are some for one Water, and one Sky, and some for another, and according to the change of those, we altar their size, and colour, and note also, that both in this, and all other Months of the Year, when you do not certainly know what Fly is taken; or cannot see any Fish to rise, you are then to put on a small Hackle, if the Water be clear, or a bigger if something dark, until you have taken one, and then thrusting your finger through his Guils, to pull out his Gorge, which being opened with your knife, you will then discover what Fly is taken, and may fit yourself accordingly.  
For the making of a Hackle, or Palmer Fly my Father Walton has already given you sufficient direction.   

March.  
For this Month you are to use all the same Hackels, and Flies with the other, but you are to make them less.  
1. We have besides for this Month a little Dun called a whirling Dun (though it is not the whirling Dun indeed, which is one of the best Flies we have) and for this the dubbing must be of the bottom fur of a Squirrels tail and the wing of the grey feather of a Drake.  
2. Also a bright brown, the dubbing either of the brown of a Spaniel, or that of a Cow's flank, with a Grailing.  
3. Also a whitish Dun made of the roots of Camel's hair, and the wings of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
4. There is also for this Month a Fly, called the Thorn Tree Fly, the dubbing an absolute black mixed with eight or ten hairs of Isabel coloured Mohair, the body as little as can be made, and the wings of a bright Malards' feather, an admirable Fly, and in great repute amongst us for, a killer.  
5. There is besides this another blue Dun, the dubbing of which it is made being thus to be got. Take a small tooth comb, and with it comb the neck of a black Grey hound, and the down that sticks in the teeth, will be the finest blue, that ever you saw. The wings of this Fly can hardly be too white, and he is taken about the tenth of this Month, and lasteth till the four and twentieth.  
6. From the tenth of this Month also till towards the end, is taken a little black Gnat; the dubbing either of the fur of a black water-Dog, or the down of a young black water-Coot, the wings of the Male of a Mallard as white as may be, the body as little as you can possibly make it, and the wings as short as his body.  
7. From the Sixteenth of this Month also to the end of it, we use a bright brown, the dubbing for which, is to be had out of a Skinner's Lime-pits, and of the hair of an abortive Calf, which the lime will turn to be so bright, as to shine like Gold, for the wings of this Fly, the feather of a brown Hen is best; which Fly is also taken till the tenth of April.   

April.  
All the same Hackles, and Flies that were taken in March will be taken in this Month also, with this distinction only concerning the Flies, that all the browns be leapt with red silk, and the Duns with yellow.  
1. To these a small bright brown, made of Spaniel's fur, with a light grey wing; in a bright day, and a clear water is very well taken.  
2. We have too a little dark brown, the dubbing of that colour, and some violet Camlet mixed, and the wing of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
3. From the sixth of this Month to the tenth, we have also a Fly called the violet Fly, made of a dark violet stuff, with the wings of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
4. About the twelfth of this Month comes in the Fly called the whirling Dun, which is taken every day about the mid time of day all this Month through, and by fits from thence to the end of June, and is commonly made of the down of a Fox Cub, which is of an Ash colour at the roots, next the skin, and ribbed about with yellow silk, the wings of the pale grey feather of a Mallard.  
5. There is also a yellow Dun, the dubbing of Camel's hair, and yellow Camlet, or wool mixed, and a white grey wing.  
6. There is also this Month another little brown, besides that mentioned before, made with a very slender body, the dubbing of dark brown, and violet Camlet mixed, and a grey wing; which though the direction for the making be near the other, is yet another Fly, and will take when the other will not, especially in a bright day, and a clear water.  
7. About the twentieth of this Month comes in a Fly called the Horseflesh Fly, the dubbing of which is a blue Mohair, with pink coloured, and red Tammy mixed, a light coloured wing, and a dark brown head. This fly is taken best in an Evening, and kills from two hours before Sun set till twilight, and is taken the Month through.   

May.  
And now Sir, that we are entering into the Month of May, I think it requisite to beg not only your attention; but also your best patience; for I must now be a little tedious with you, and dwell upon this Month longer than ordinary; which that you may the better endure, I must tell you, this Month deserves, and requires to be insisted on, for as much as it alone, and the next following afford more pleasure to the Flie-Angler, than all the rest; and here it is that you are to expect an account of the Green Drake, and stone-flie, promised you so long ago, and some others that are peculiar to this Month, and part of the Month following, and that (though not so great either in bulk, or name) do yet stand in competition with the two before named, and so, that it is yet undecided amongst the Anglers to which of the pretenders to the Title of the May-flie, it does properly, and duly belong, neither dare I (where so many of the learned in this Art of Angling are got in dispute about the controversy) take upon me to determine; but I think I ought to have a vote amongst them, and according to that privilege, shall give you my free opinion, and peradventure when I have told you all, you may incline to think me in the right.  Viat. 
I have so great a deference to your judgement in these matters, that I must always be of your opinion; and the more you speak, the faster I grow to my attention, for I can never be weary of hearing you upon this Subject.  Pisc. 
Why that's encouragement enough; and now prepare yourself for a tedious Lecture; but I will first begin with the flies of less esteem (though almost any thing will take a Trout in May) that I may afterwards insist the longer upon those of greater note, and reputation; know therefore that the first fly we take notice of in this Month, is called the Turky-flie, the.  
1. The dubbing ravelled out of some blue stuff, and leapt about with yellow silk, the wings of a grey Mallards' feather.  
2. next a great Hackle; or Palmer-flie, with a yellow body ribbed with Gold twist, and large wings of a Mallards' feather died yellow, with a red Capons Hackle over all,  
3. Then a black fly, the dubbing of a black Spaniel's fur, and the wings of a grey Mallards' feather.  
4, After that a light brown with a slender body, the dubbing twirled upon small red silk, and raised with the point of a needle, that the ribs or rows of silk may appear through the wings of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
5. Next a little Dun, the dubbing of a Bears dun whirled upon yellow silk, the wings of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
6. Then a white Gnat, with a pale wing, and a black head.  
7. There is also this Month a fly called the Peacock-flie, the body made of a whirl of a Peacock's feather, with a red head, and wings of a Mallards' feather.  
8. We have then another very kill fly, known by the name of the Dun-Cut, the dubbing of which is a Bears dun, with a little blue, and yellow mixed with it, a large dun wing, and two horns at the head, made of the hairs of a Squirrels tail.  
9 The next is the Cow-Lady, a little fly, the body of a Peacock's feather, the wing of a red feather, or strips of the red hackle of a Cock.  
10. We have then the Cow-turd fly; the dubbing light brown, and yellow mixed, the wing the dark grey feather of a Mallard. And note that besides these abovementioned, all the same Hackles and Flies, the Hackles only brighter, and the Flies smaller, that are taken in April, will also be taken this Month, as also all brown's, and Duns: and now I come to my Stone-Flie, and Green-Drake, which are the Matadores for Trout and Grailing, and in their season kill more Fish in our Derbyshire Rivers, than all the rest past, and to come, in the whole Year besides.  
But first I am to tell you, that we have four several flies which contend for the Title of the May-Flie, namely, 

The Green-Drake,  
The Stone-Flie,  
The Black Fly, and  
The little yellow May-Flie.    
And all these have their Champions and Advocates to dispute, and plead their priority; though I do not understand why the two last named should; the first two having so manifestly the advantage, both in their beauty, and the wonderful execution they do in their season.  
11. Of these the Green-Drake comes in about the twentieth of this Month, or betwixt that, and the latter end (for they are sometimes sooner, and sometimes later according to the quality of the Year) but never well taken till towards the end of this Month, and the beginning of June. The Stone-Flie comes much sooner, so early as the middle of April; but is never well taken till towards the middle of May, and continues to kill much longer than the Green-Drake stays with us, so long as to the end almost of June; and indeed, so long as there are any of them to be seen upon the water; and sometimes in an Artificial Fly, and late at night, or before Sun rise in a morning, longer.  
Now both these Flies (and I believe many others, though I think not all) are certainly, and demonstratively bred in the very Rivers where they are taken, our Caddis or Cod-bait which lie under stones in the bottom of the water, most of them turning into those two Flies, and being gathered in the husk, or crust, near the time of their maturity, are very easily known, and distinguished, and are of all other the most remarkable, both for their size, as being of all other the biggest (the shortest of them being a full inch long, or more) and for the execution they do, the Trout, and Grailing being much more greedy of them, than of any others; and indeed the Trout never feeds fat, nor comes into his perfect season, till these Flies come in.  
Of these the Green-Drake never discloses from his husk, till he be first there grown to full maturity, body, wings, and all, and then he creeps out of his cell, but with his wings so crimpt, and ruffled, by being pressed together in that narrow room, that they are for some hours totally useless to him, by which means he is compelled either to creep upon the flags, sedges, and blades of grass (if his first rising from the bottom of the water be near the banks of the River) till the Air, and Sun, stiffen and smooth them! or if his first appearance above water happen to be in the middle, he than lies upon the surface of the water like a Ship at Hull (for his feet are totally useless to him there, and he cannot creep upon the water as the Stone-Flie can) until his wings have got stiffness to fly with, if by some Trout, or Grailing he be not taken in the interim (which ten to one he is) and then his wings stand high, and closed exact upon his back, like the Butterfly, and his motion in flying is the same. His Body is in some of a paler, in others of a darker yellow (for they are not all exactly of a colour) ribbed with rows of green, long slender, and growing sharp towards the tail, at the end of which he has three long small whisks of a very dark colour, almost black, and his tail turns up towards his back like a Mallard, from whence questionless he has his name of the green-Drake. These (as I think I told you before) we commonly dape, or dibble with, and having gathered great store of them into a long draw box, with holes in the Cover to give them Air (where also they will continue fresh, and vigorous a night or more) we take them out thence by the wings, and bait them thus upon the Hook. We first take one) for we commonly Fish with two of them at a time) and putting the point of the Hook into the thickest part of his Body under one of his wings, run it directly through and out at the other side, leaving him spitted cross upon the Hook, and then taking the other, put him on after the same manner, but with his head the contrary way, in which posture they will live upon the Hook, and play with their wings for a quarter of an hour, or more: but you must have a care to keep their wings dry, both from the water, and also that your fingers be not wet when you take them out to bait them; for than your bait is spoiled.  
Having now told you how to Angle with this Fly alive; I am now to tell you next, how to make an Artificial Fly, that will so perfectly resemble him, as to be taken in a rough windy day, when no Flies can lie upon the water; nor are to be found about the Banks and sides of the River, to a wonder, and with which you shall certainly kill the best Trout, and Grailing in the River.  
The Artificial Green-Drake than is made upon a large Hook, the Dubbing, Camels hair, bright Bears hair, the soft down that is combed from a Hog's bristles, and yellow Camlet well mixed together, the body long, and ribbed about with green silk, or rather yellow waxed with green-wax, the whisks of the tail of the long hairs of sables, or fitchet, and the wings of the white grey feather of a Mallard died yellow, which also is to be died thus.  
Take the root of a Barbary Tree, and shave it, and put to it Woody viss, with as much Alum as a Walnut, and boil your feathers in it with Rain water; and they will be of a very fine yellow.  
I have now done with the Green-drake excepting to tell you, that he is taken at all hours during his season, whilst there is any day upon the Sky; and with a made Fly, I once took, ten days after he was absolutely gone, in a Cloudy day, after a shower, and in a whistling wind, five and thirty very great Trout, and Grayling betwixt five, and eight of the Clock in the Evening, and had no less than five, or six Flies with three good hairs a piece taken from me in despite of my heart, besides.  
12. I should now come next to the Stone-Flie, but there is another Gentleman in my way: that must of necessity come in between, and that is the Grey-Drake, which in all shapes, and dimensions is perfectly the same with the other, but quite almost of another colour, being of a paler, and more livid yellow, and green, and ribbed with black quite down his body, with black shining wings, and so diaphanous and tender, cobweb like, that they are of no manner of use for Daping; but come in, and are taken after the Green-Drake, and in an Artificial Fly kill very well, which Fly is thus made, the Dubbing of the down of a Hog's bristles, and black Spaniels fur mixed, and ribbed down the body with black silk, the whisks of the hairs of the beard of a black Cat, and the wings of the black grey feather of a Mallard.  
And now I come to the Stone-Flie, but am afraid I have already wearied your patience, which if I have, I beseech you freely tell me so, and I will defer the remaining instructions for Flie-Angling till some other time.  Viat. 
No truly Sir, I can never be weary of hearing you: but if you think fit, because I am afraid I am too troublesome, to refresh yourself with a glass, and a pipe; you may afterwards proceed, and I shall be exceedingly pleased to hear you.  Pisc. 
I thank you Sir for that motion; for believe me I am dry with talking, Here Boy, give us here a Bottle, and a Glass; and Sir, my service to you, and to all our Friends in the South.  Viat. 
Your Servant Sir, and I'll pledge you as hearty; for the good powdered beef I eat at Dinner, or something else, has made me thirsty.    

CHAP. VIII.  VIAT. 
So, Sir, I am now ready for another Lesson so soon as you please to give it me.  Pisc. 
and I, Sir, as ready to give you the best I can. Having told you the time of the Stone-Flie's coming in, and that he is bred of a Caddis in the very River where he is taken, I am next to tell you, that  
13. This same Stone-Flie has not the patience to continue in his Crust, or Husk till his wings be full grown; but so soon as ever they begin to put out, that he feels himself strong (at which time we call him a Jack) squeezes himself out of Prison, and crawls to the top of some stone, where if he can find a chink that will receive him, or can creep betwixt two stones, the one lying hollow upon the other (which, by the way, we also lay so purposely to find them) he there lurks till his wings be full grown, and there is your only place to find him (and from thence doubtless he derives his name) though, for want of such convenience, he will make shift with the hollow of a Bank, or any other place where the wind cannot come to fetch him off. His body is long, and pretty thick, and as broad at the tail almost, as in the middle; his colour a very fine brown, ribbed with yellow, and much yellower on the belly than the back, he has two or three whisks also at the tag of his tail, and two little horns upon his head, his wings, when full grown, are double, and flat down his back of the same colour, but rather darker than his body, and longer than it; though he makes but little use of them, for you shall rarely see him flying, though often swimming, and paddling with several feet he has under his belly upon the water, without stirring a wing: but the Drake will mount Steeple height into the Air, though he is to be found upon flags and grass too, and indeed every where high and low, near the River; there being so many of them in their season, as were they not a very inoffensive insect, would look like a Plague; and these Drakes (since I forgot to tell you before, I will tell you here) are taken by the Fish to that incredible degree, that upon a calm day you shall see the still deeps continually all over circles by the Fishes rising, who will gorge themselves with those Flies, till they purge again out of their Guills; and the Trout are at that time so lusty and strong, that one of eight, or ten inches long, will then more struggle, and tug, and more endanger your Tackle, than one twice as big in winter: but pardon this digression.  
This Stone-flie than we dape or dibble with as with the Drake, but with this difference, that whereas the green-Drake is common both to stream and still, and to all hours of the day, we seldom dape with this but in the streams, (for in a whistling wind a made Fly in the deep is better, and rarely, but early and late, it not being so proper for the mid-time of the day; though a great Grailing will then take it very well in a sharp stream, and here and there a Trout too: but much better toward 8, 9, 10. or eleven of the clock at night, at which time also the best Fish rise, and the latter the better, provided you can see your Fly, and when you cannot, a made Fly will murder, which is to be made thus: The dubbing of bears dun with a little brown and yellow Camlet very well mixed; but so placed that your Fly may be more yellow on the belly and towards the tail underneath than in any other part, and you are to place two or three hairs of a black Cat's beard on the top of the hook in your arming, so as to be turned up, when you warp on your dubbing, and to stand almost upright, and staring one from another, and note that your Fly is to be ribbed with yellow silk, and the wings long, and very large, of the dark grey feather of a Mallard.  
14. The next May-Flie is the black Fly, made with a black body of the whirl of an Ostridg-feather, ribbed with silver twist, and the black hackle of a Cock over all; and is a kill Fly, but not to be named with either of the other.  
15. The last May-Flie (that is of the four pretenders) is the little yellow May-Flie, in shape exactly the same with the green Drake, but a very little one, and of as bright a yellow as can be seen; which is made of a bright yellow Camlet, and the wings of a white grey feather died yellow.  
16. The last Fly for this month (and which continues all June, though it comes in the middle of May) is the Fly called the Camlet-Flie, in shape like a moth with fine diapered▪ or water-wings, and with which (as I told you before) I sometimes used to dibble; and Grailing will rise mightily at it. But the artificial Fly (which is only in use amongst our Anglers) is made of a dark brown shining Camlet, ribbed over with a very small light green silk, the wings of the double grey feather of a Mallard; and 'tis a kill Fly for small Fish, and so much for May.  

June.  
From the first to the four and twentieth, the green-Drake and Stone-Flie are taken (as I told you before.)  
1. From the twelfth to the four and twentieth late at night is taken a Fly, called the Owl-Flie; the dubbing of a white Weesel's tail, and a white Grey wing.  
2. We have then another Dunne, called the Barm-flie, from its yesty colour, the dubbing of the fur of a yellow dun Cat, and a grey wing of a Mallards' feather.  
3. We have also a hackle with a purple body, whipped about with a red Capon's feather.  
4. As also a gold twist Hackle with a purple body, whipped about with a red Capon's feather.  
5. To these we have this month a Flesh-fly, the dubbing of a black Spaniel's fur, and blue wool mixed, and a grey wing.  
6. Also another little flesh-fly, the body made of the whirl of a Peacock's feather, and the wings of the grey feather of a Drake.  
7. We have then the Peacock-flie, the body and wing both made of the feather of that bird.  
8. There is also the flying Ant, or Ant-flie, the dubbing of brown and red Camlet mixed, with a light grey wing.  
9 We have likewise a brown Gnat, with a very slender body of brown and violet Camlet well mixed, and a light grey wing.  
10. And another little black Gnat, the dubbing of black mohair, and a white Grey wing.  
11. As also a green Grasshopper, the dubbing of green and yellow Wool mixed, ribbed over with green Silk, and a red Capon's feather over all.  
12. And lastly a little dun Grasshopper, the body slender made of a dun Camlet, and a dun hackle at the top.   

July.  
First all the small flies that were taken in June, are also taken in this month.  
1. We have then the Orange Fly, the dubbing of Orange Wool, and the wing of a black feather.  
2. Also a little white dun, the body made of white Mohair, and the wings blew of a Herons feather.  
3. We have likewise this month a Wasp-flie, made either of a dark brown dubbing, or else the fur of a black Cat's tail, ribbed about with yellow silk, and the wing of the grey feather of a Mallard.  
4. Another fly taken this month is a black Hackle, the body made of the whirl of a Peacock's feather, and a black hackle feather on the top.  
5. We have also another made of a Peacocks whirl without wings.  
6. Another fly also is taken this month called the shel-flie, the dubbing of yellow-green Jersey Wool, and a little white Hogs hair mixed, which I call the Palm-flie, and do believe it is taken for a Palm, that drops off the willows into the water; for this fly I have seen Trout take little pieces of moss, as they have swum down the River, by which I conclude that the best way to hit the right colour is to compare your dubbing with the Moss, and mix the colours as near as you can.  
7. There is also taken this month a black blue Dun, the dubbing of the fur of a black Rabbit mixed with a little yellow, the wings of the Feather of a blue Pigeons wing.   

August.  
The same Flies with July.  
1. Then another Art-flie, the dubbing of the black brown hair of a Cow, some red warped in for the Tag of his tail, and a dark wing, a kill fly.  
2. Next a fly called the Fern-flie, the dubbing of the fur of a Hare's neck, that is of the colour of Fearn, or Brackin, with a darkish grey wing of a Mallards' feather, a killer too.  
3. Besides these we have a white Hackle, the body of white Mo-hair, and wrapped about with a white Hackle Feather, and this is assuredly taken for Thistle-down.  
4. We have also this month a Harry-long-leggs, the body made of Bears dun, and blue Wool mixed, and a brown hackle Feather over all.  
Lastly in this month all the same browns and dun are taken, that were taken in May.   

September.  
This month the same Flies are taken, that are taken in April.  
1. To which I shall only add a Camel-brown Fly, the dubbing pulled out of the lime of a Wall whipped about with red Silk, and a darkish grey Mallards' feather for the wing.  
2. And one other for which we have no name; but it is made of the black hair of a Badgers skin mixed with the yellow softest down of a sanded Hog.   

October.  
The same Flies are taken this month, that were taken in March.   

Novemb.  
The same Flies that were taken in February, are taken this month also.   

December.  
Few men angle with the Fly this month, no more than they do in January: but yet if the weather be warm (as I have known it sometimes in my life to be, even in this cold Country where it is least expected) then a brown that looks red in the hand, and yellowish betwixt your eye and the Sun; will both raise and kill in a clear water, and free from snow-broth: but at the best 'tis hardly worth a man's labour.  
And now Sir, I have done with Flie-fishing, or angling at the top, excepting once more to tell you, that of all these (and I have named you a great many very kill flies) none are fit to be compared with the Drake and Stone-flie, both for many and very great fish; and yet there are some days, that are by no means proper for the sport, and in a calm you shall not have near so much sport even with daping, as in a whistling gale of wind, for two reasons, both because you are not then so easily discovered by the fish, and also because there are then but few flies can lie upon the water; for where they have so much choice, you may easily imagine they will not be so eager and forward to rise at a bait, that both the shadow of your body, and that of your Rod, nay of your very line, in a hot calm day will, in spite of your best caution, render suspected to them: but even then, in swift streams, or by sitting down patiently behind a willow bush, you shall do more execution than at almost any other time of the year with any other fly, though one may sometimes hit of a day, when he shall come home very well satisfied with sport with several other Flies: but with these two, the green Drake and the Stone-flie, I do verily believe I could some days in my life, had I not been weary of slaughter, have loaden a lusty boy, and have sometimes, I do honestly assure you, given over upon the mere account of satiety of sport; which will be no hard matter to believe, when I likewise assure you, that with this very fly, I have in this very River that runs by us in three or four hours taken thirty, five and thirty, and forty of the best Trout in the River. What shame and pity is it then, that such a River should be destroyed by the basest sort of people, by those unlawful ways of fire and netting in the night, and of damning, groping, spearing, hanging and hooking by day, which are now grown so common, that, though we have very good Laws to punish such Offenders, every Rascal does it, for aught I see, impunè.  
To conclude, I cannot now in honesty but frankly tell you, that many of these flies I have named, at least so made as we make them here, will peradventure do you no great service in your Southern Rivers, and will not conceal from you, but that I have sent flies to several friends in London, that for aught I could ever hear, never did any great feats with them, and therefore if you intent to profit by my instructions, you must come to angle with me here in the Peak; and so, if you please, let us walk up to Supper, and to morrow, if the day be windy, as our days here commonly are, 'tis ten to one but we shall take a good dish of fish for dinner.    

CHAP. IX.  PISC. 
A good day to you, Sir; I see you will always be stirring before me.  Viat. 
Why, to tell you the truth, I am so allured with the sport I had yesterday, that I long to be at the River again, and when I heard the wind sing in my Chamber window, could forbear no longer, but leap out of bed, and had just made an end of dressing myself, as you came in.  Pisc. 
Well, I am both glad you are so ready for the day, and that the day is so fit for you, and look you I have made you three or four flies this morning, this silver twist hackle, this bears dun, this light brown and this dark brown, any of which I dare say will do; but you may try them all, and see which does best, only I must ask your pardon that I cannot wait upon you this Morning, a little business being fallen out, that for two or three hours, will deprive me of your Company: but I'll come call you home to dinner, and my man shall attend you.  Viat. 
Oh Sir, mind your affairs by all means, do but lend me a little of your skill to these fine flies, and, unless it have forsaken me since yesterday, I shall find luck of my own I hope to do something.  Pisc. 
The best Instruction I can give you, is, that, seeing the wind curls the water, and blows the right way, you would now angle up the still deep to day; for betwixt the Rocks where the streams are, you would find it now too brisk, and besides I would have you take fish in both Waters.  Viat. 
I'll obey your Direction, and so a good morning to you. Come young man, let you and I walk together. But hark you, Sir, I have not done with you yet; I expect another Lesson for angling at the bottom, in the afternoon.  Pisc. 
Well, Sir, I'll be ready for you.   

CHAP. X.  PISC. 
Oh Sir, are you returned? you have but just prevented me. I was coming to call you.  Viat. 
I am glad than I have saved you the labour.  Pisc. 
And how have you sped.  Viat. 
You shall see that, Sir, presently, look you Sir, here are three 
* Spoke like a South-Country man.  brace of Trout, one of them the biggest but one, that ever I killed with a fly in my life, and yet I lost a bigger than that, with my Fly to booed, and here are three Grayling, and one of them longer by some inches than that I took yesterday, and yet I thought that a good one too.  Pisc. 
Why you have made a pretty good morning's work on't, and now Sir, what think you of our River Dove?  Viat. 
I think it to be the best Trout River in England; and am so far in love with it, that if it were mine, and that I could keep it to myself, I would not exchange that water, for all the Land it runs over; to be totally debarred from't.  Pisc. 
That Compliment to the River, speaks you a true lover of the Art of angling: And now, Sir, to make part of amends for sending you so uncivilly out alone this Morning, I will myself dress you this dish of fish for your dinner, walk but into the parlour, you will find one Book or other in the window to entertain you the while, and you shall have it presently.  Viat. 
Well Sir, I obey you.  Pisc. 
Look you Sir, have I not made haste?  Viat. 
Believe me Sir, that you have, and it looks so well, I long to be at it.  Pisc. 
Fall too then; now Sir what say You! am I a tolerable Cook or no?  Viat. 
So good a one, that I did never eat so good Fish in my life. This Fish is infinitely better, than any I ever tasted of the kind in my life. 'Tis quite another thing, than our Trout about London.  Pisc. 
You would say so, if that Trout you eat of were in right season: but pray eat of the Grailing, which upon my word at this time, is by much the better Fish.  Viat. 
In earnest, and so it is: and I have one request to make to you, which is, that as you have taught me to catch Trout and Grailing, you will now teach me how to dress them as these are dressed, which questionless is of all other the best way.  Pisc. 
That I will Sir, with all my heart, and am glad you like them so well, as to make that request, and they are dressed thus.  
Take your Trout, wash, and dry him with a clean Napkin; then open him, and having taken out his guts, and all the blood, wipe him very clean within, but wash him not, and give him three scotches with a Knife to the bone on one side only. After which take a clean Kettle, and put in as much hard stolen Beer (but it must not be dead) Vinegar, and a little Whitewine, and Water, as will cover the Fish you intent to boil; then throw into the Liquor a good quantity of Salt, the Rind of a Lemon, a handful of sliced Horseradish root, with a handsome little faggot of Rosemary, Time, and Winter-Savory. Then set your Kettle upon a quick fire of wood, and let your Liquor boil up to the height before you put in your Fish, and then, if there be many, put them in one by one, that they may not so cool the Liquor, as to make it fall; and whilst your Fish is boiling, beat up the Butter for your Sauce with a Ladle full or two of the Liquor it is boiling in, and being boiled enough, immediately pour the Liquor from the Fish, and being laid in a Dish, pour your Butter upon it, and strewing it plentifully over with shaved Horse-Raddish, and a little pounded Ginger, garnish your sides of your Dish, and the Fish itself with a sliced Lemon, or two, and serve it up. A Grailing is also to be dressed exactly after the same manner, saving that he is to be scaled, which a Trout never is: and that must be done either with ones nails, or very lightly and carefully with a Knife for bruising the Fish. And note, that these kinds of Fish, a Trout especially, if he is not eaten within four, or five hours after he be taken, is worth nothing.  
But come Sir, I see you have dined, and therefore if you please we will walk down again to the little House, and there I will read you a Lecture of Angling at the bottom.   

CHAP. XI.  VIAT. 
So Sir, Now we are here, and set: let me have my instructions for Angling for Trout, and Grailing at the bottom; which though not so easy, so cleanly, nor (as 'tis said) so Gentile a way of Fishing, as with a Fly; is yet (if I mistake not) a good holding way and takes Fish when nothing else will.  Pisc. 
You are in the right, it does so: and a worm is so sure a bait at all times, that, excepting in a Flood, I would I had laid thousand pounds that I killed Fish more, or less with it, Winter or Summer every day throughout the Year; those days always excepted, that, upon a more serious account always ought so to be. But not longer to delay you, I will begin, and tell you, that Angling at the bottom is also commonly of two sorts (and yet there is a third way of Angling with a Ground-bait, and to very great effect too, as shall be said hereafter) namely. 

By Hand: or  
With a Cork, or Float.    
That we call Angling by hand is of three sorts.  
The first with a line about half the length of the Rod, a good weighty plum, and three hairs next the Hook, which we call a running Line, and with one large Brandling, or a dew-worm of a moderate size, or two small ones of the first, or any other sort, proper for a Trout, of which my Father Walton has already given you the names, and saved me a labour; or indeed almost any worm whatever; for if a Trout be in the humour to by't, it must be such a worm as I never yet saw, that he will refuse; and if you Fish with two, you are then to bait your hook thus. You are first to run the point of your hook in at the very head of your first worm, and so down through his body till it be passed the knot, and then let it out, and strip the worm above the arming (that you may not bruise it with your fingers) till you have put on the other by running the point of the Hook in below the knot, and upwards through his body towards his head till it be but just covered with the head, which being done, you are then to slip the first worm down over the arming again, till the knots of both worms meet together.  
The second way of Angling by hand, and with a running Line, is with a Line something longer than the former, and with Tackle made after this same manner. At the utmost extremity of your Line, where the Hook is always placed in all other ways of Angling, you are to have a large Pistol, or Carabine Bullet, into which the end of your Line is to be fastened with a Peg, or Pin even and close with the Bullet, and about half a foot above that, a branch of Line, of two, or three handfuls long; or more, for a swift stream, with a Hook at the end thereof baited with some of the forenamed worms, and another half foot above that another armed, and baited after the same manner; but with another sort of worm, without any lead at all above: by which means you will always certainly find the true bottom in all depths, which with the Plums upon your Line above you can never do, but that your bait must always drag whilst you are sounding (which in this way of Angling must be continually) by which means you are like to have more trouble, and peradventure worse success. And both these ways of Angling at the bottom are most proper for a dark, and muddy water, by reason that in such a condition of the stream, a Man may stand as near as he will, and neither his own shadow; nor the roundness of his Tackle will hinder his sport.  
The third way of Angling by hand with a Ground-bait, and by much the best of all other, is, with a Line full as long, or a yard and half longer than your Rod, with no more than one hair next the hook, and for two or three lengths above it, and no more than one small pellet of shot for your plum, your Hook little, your worms of the smaller Brandling very well scoured, and only one upon your hook at a time, which is thus to be baited. The point of your hook is to be put in at the very tagg of his tail, and run up his body quite over all the arming, and still stripped on an inch at least upon the hair, the head and remaining part hanging downward; and with this line and hook thus baited you are evermore to angle in the streams, always in a clear rather than a troubled water, and always up the River, still casting out your worm before you with a light one-handed Rod, like an artificial Fly, where it will be taken, sometimes at the top, or within a very little of the Superficies of the water, and almost always before that light plumb can sink it to the bottom, both by reason of the stream, and also that you must always keep your worm in motion by drawing still back towards you, as if you were angling with a fly; and believe me, whoever will try it, shall find this the best way of all other to angle with a worm, in a bright water especially; but then his rod must be very light and pliant, and very true and finely made, which with a skilful hand will do wonders, and in a clear stream is undoubtedly the best way of angling for a Trout, or Grailing with a worm, by many degrees, that any man can make choice of, and of most ease and delight to the Angler. To which let me add, that if the Angler be of a constitution that will suffer him to wade, and will slip into the tail of a shallow stream, to the Calf of the leg or the knee, and so keep off the bank, he shall almost take what fish he pleases.  
The second way of angling at the bottom is with a Cork or float; and that is also of two sorts. 

With a worm: or,  
With a Grub or Caddis.    
With a worm you are to have your line within a foot, or a foot and half as long as your rod, in a dark water with two, or if you will with three; but in a clear water never with above one hair next the hook, and two or three for four or five lengths above it, and a worm of what size you please, your plums fitted to your Cork, your Cork to the condition of the River (that is to the swiftness or slowness of it) and both, when the water is very clear, as fine as you can, and then you are never to bait with above one of the lesser sort of Brandling; or, if they are very little ones indeed, you may then bait with two after the manner before directed.  
When you angle for a Trout, you are to do it as deep, that is, as near the bottom as you can, provided your bait do not drag, or if it do, a Trout will sometimes take it in that posture: if for a Grailing, you are then to fish further from the bottom, he being a fish that usually swims nearer to the middle of the water, and lies always lose: or however is more apt to rise than a Trout, and more inclined to rise than to descend even to a Ground-bait.  
With a Grub or Caddis, you are to angle with the same length of Line; or if it be all out as long as your Rod, 'tis not the worse, with never above on hair for two or three lengths next the hook, and with the smallest Cork, or float, and the least weight of plumb you can that will but sink, and that the swiftness of your stream will allow; which also you may help, and avoid the violence of the Current, by angling in the returns of a stream, or the Eddies betwixt two streams, which also are the most likely places wherein to kill a Fish in a stream, either at the top or bottom.  
Of Grubs for a Grailing, the Ashgrub, which is plump, milk-white, bend round from head to tail, and exceeding tender with a red head; or the Dock worm, or Grub of a pale yellow, longer, lanker, and tougher than the other, with rows of feet all down his belly, and a red head also are the best, I say for a Grailing, because, although a Trout will take both these (the Ashgrub especially) yet he does not do it so freely as the other, and I have usually taken ten Grayling for one Trout with that bait, though if a Trout come, I have observed, that he is commonly a very good one.  
These baits we usually keep in Bran, in which an Ashgrub commonly grows tougher, and will better endure baiting, though he is yet so tender, that it will be necessary to warp in a piece of a stiff hair with your arming, leaving it standing out about a straw breadth at the head of your hook, so as to keep the Grub either from slipping totally off when baited, or at least down to the point of the hook, by which means your arming will be left wholly naked and bare, which is neither so sightly, nor so likely to be taken; though to help that (which will however very oft fall out) I always arm the hook I design for this Bait with the whitest horsehair I can choose, which itself will resemble, and shine like that bait, and consequently will do more good, or less harm than an arming of any other colour. These Grubs are to be baited thus, the hook is to be put in under the head or Chaps of the bait, and guided down the middle of the belly without suffering it to peep out by the way (for then (the Ashgrub especially) will issue out water and milk, till nothing but the skin shall remain, and the bend of the hook will appear black through it) till the point of your hook come so low, that the head of your bait may rest, and stick upon the hair that stands out to hold it, by which means it can neither slip of itself; neither will the force of the stream, nor quick pulling out, upon any mistake, strip it off.  
Now the Caddis, or Cod-bait (which is a sure kill bait, and for the most part, by much, surer, than either of the other) may be put upon the Hook, two or three together, and is sometimes (to very great effect) joined to a worm, and sometimes to an Artificial Fly to cover the point of the Hook; but is always to be Angled with at the bottom (when by itself especially) with the finest Tackle; and is for all times of the year, the most holding bait of all other whatever, both for Trout, and Grailing.  
There are several other baits besides these few I have named you, which also do very great execution at the bottom, and some that are peculiar to certain Countries, and Rivers, of which every Angler may in his own place, make his own observation: and some others that I do not think fit to put you in mind of, because I would not corrupt you, and would have you, as in all things else I observe you to be a very honest Gentleman, a fair Angler. And so much for the second sort of Angling for a Trout at the bottom.  Viat. 
But Sir, I beseech you give me leave to ask you one question, Is there no art to be used to worms, to make them allure the Fish, and in a manner compel them to by't at the bait.  Pisc. 
Not that I know of; or did I know any such secret, I would not use it myself, and therefore would not teach it you. Though I will not deny to you, that in my younger days, I have made trial of Oil of Ospray, Oil of Ivy, Camphire, Assafaetida, juice of Nettles, and several other devices that I was taught by several Anglers I met with, but could never find any advantage by them; and can scarce believe there is any thing to be done that way, though I must tell you I have seen some men, who I thought went to work no more artificially than I, and have yet with the same kind of worms I had, in my own sight taken five, and sometimes ten for one. But we'll let that business alone if you please; and because we have time enough, and that I would deliver you from the trouble of any more Lectures, I will, if you please, proceed to the last way of angling for a Trout or Grailing, which is in the middle; after which I shall have no more to trouble you with.  Viat. 
'Tis no trouble, Sir, but the greatest satisfaction that can be, and I attend you.   

CHAP. XII.  PISC. 
Angling in the middle then for a Trout or Grailing is of two sorts. 

With a Pink or Minnow for a Trout: or,  
With a Worm, Grub or Caddis for a Grailing.    
For the first, it is with a Minnow half a foot, or a foot within the Superficies of the water, and as to the rest that concerns this sort of angling, I shall wholly refer you to Mr. Walton's direction, who is undoubtedly the best Angler with a Minnow in England; only in plain truth I do not approve of those baits he keeps in salt, unless where the Living ones are not possibly to be had (though I know he frequently kills with them, and peradventure more, than with any other, nay I have seen him refuse a living one for one of them) and much less of his artificial one; for though we do it with a counterfeit fly, me thinks it should hardly be expected, that a man should deceive a fish with a counterfeit fish. Which having said, I shall only add, and that out of my own experience, that I do believe a Bullhead, with his Guill-fins cut off (at some times of the year especially) to be a much better bait for a Trout, than a Minnow, and a Loach much better than that, to prove which I shall only tell you that I have much oftener taken Trout with a Bullhead or a Loach in their Throats (for there a Trout has questionless his first digestion) than a Minnow; and that one day especially, having Angled a good part of the day with a Minnow, and that in as hopeful a day, and as fit a water, as could be wished for that purpose, without raising any one Fish; I at last fell to't with the worm, and with that took fourteen in a very short space, amongst all which, there was not to my remembrance, so much as one, that had not a Loach or two, and some of them three, four, five, and six Loaches, in his throat and stomach; from whence I concluded, that had I Angled with that bait, I had made a notable days work of't.  
But after all, there is a better way of Angling with a Minnow, than perhaps is fit either to teach or to practise; to which I shall only add, that a Grailing will certainly rise at, and sometimes take a Minnow, though it will be hard to be believed by any one, who shall consider the littleness of that Fish's mouth, very nnfit to take so great a bait: but is affirmed by many, that he will sometimes do it, and I myself know it to be true, for though I never took a Grailing so, yet a Man of mine once did, and within so few paces of me, that I am as certain of it, as I can be of any thing I did not see, and (which made it appear the more strange) the Grailing was not above eleven inches long.  
I must here also beg leave of your Master, and mine, not to controvert, but to tell him, that I cannot consent to his way of throwing in his Rod to an overgrown Trout, and afterwards recovering his Fish with his Tackle. For though I am satisfied he has sometimes done it, because he says so; yet I have found it quite otherwise, and though I have taken with the Angle, I may safely say, some thousands of Trout in my life, my top never snapped, though my Line still continued fast to the remaining part of my Rod (by some lengths of Line curled round about my top, and there fastened with waxed silk, against such an accident) nor my hand never slacked, or slipped by any other chance, but I almost always infallibly lost my Fish, whether great, or little, though my Hook came home again. And I have often wondered how a Trout should so suddenly disengage himself from so great a Hook, as that we bait with a Minnow, and so deep bearded, as those Hooks commonly are, when I have seen by the forenamed accidents, or the slipping of a knot in the upper part of the Line, by sudden, and hard striking, that though the Line has immediately been recovered, almost before it could be all drawn into the water, the Fish cleared, and gone in a moment. And yet to justify what he says, I have sometimes known a Trout, having carried away a whole Line, found dead three, or four days after with the Hook fast sticking in him: but than it is to be supposed he had gorged it, which a Trout will do, if you be not too quick with him when he comes at a Minnow, as sure and much sooner than a Pike; and I myself have also, once, or twice in my life, taken the same Fish with my own Fly sticking in his Chaps, that he had taken from me the day before, by the slipping of a Hook in the arming: but I am very confident a Trout will not be troubled two hours with any Hook, that has so much as one handful of Line left behind with it, or that is not struck through a bone, if it be in any part of his mouth only; nay, I do certainly know, that a Trout so soon as ever he feels himself pricked, if he carries away the Hook, goes immediately to the bottom, and will there root like a Hog upon the Gravel, till he either rub out, or break the Hook in the middle. And so much for this first sort of Angling in the middle for a Trout.  
The second way of Angling in the middle, is with a Worm, Grub, Caddis, or any other Ground-bait for a Grailing, and that is with a Cork, and a foot from the bottom, a Grailing taking it much better there, than at the bottom, as has been said before; and this always in a clear water, and with the finest Tackle.  
To which we may also, and with very good reason, add the third way of Angling by hand with a Ground-bait, as a third way of Fishing in the middle, which is common to both Trout, and Grailing, and (as I said before) the best way of Angling with a Worm, of all other I ever tried whatever.  
And now Sir, I have said all I can at present think of concerning Angling for a Trout and Grailing; and I doubt not, have tired you sufficiently: but I will give you no more trouble of this kind, whilst you stay; which I hope will be a good while longer.  Viat. 
That will not be above a day longer; but if I live till May come twelve Month, you are sure of me again, either with my Master Walton, or without him, and in the mean time shall acquaint him how much you have made of me for his sake, and I hope he loves me well enough, to thank you for it.  Pisc. 
I shall be glad Sir, of your good Company at the time you speak of and shall be loath to part with you now; but when you tell me you must go, I will then wait upon you more Miles on your way, than I have tempted you out of it, and hearty wish you a good Journey.  
FINIS.     

To my most Honoured Friend, Charles Cotton, Esq  
SIR,  
YOu Now see, I have returned you, your very pleasant, and useful discourse of the Art of Flie-Fishing, Printed, just as 'twas sent me: for I have been so obedient to your desires, as to endure all the praises you have ventured to fix upon me in it. And, when I have thanked you for them, as the effects of an undissembled love: then, let me tell you Sir, that I will really endeavour to live up to the Character you have given of me, if there were no other reason; yet for this alone, that you, that love me so well; and always think what you speak, may not, for my sake, suffer by a mistake in your Judgement.  
And Sir, I have ventured to fill a part of your Margin, by way of Paraphrase, for the Readers clearer understanding the situation both of your Fishing-House, and the pleasantness of that you dwell in. And I have ventured also to give him a Copy of Verses, that, you were pleased to send me, now some Years past; in which, he may see a good Picture of both; and, so much of your own mind too, as will make any Reader that is blest with a Generous Soul, to love you the better. I confess, that for doing this, you may justly Judge me too bold: if you do, I will say so too: and so far commute for my offence, that, though I be more than a hundred Miles from you, and in the eighty third Year of my Age, yet I will forget both, and next Month begin a Pilgrimage to beg your pardon, for, I would die in your favour: and till then will live.  
Sir, London, April. 29th, 1676. Your most affectionate Father and Friend, Izaak Walton.   

THE RETIREMENT.  
Stanzes Irreguliers TO Mr. IZAAK WALTON.  

FArewell thou busy World, and, may  
We never meet again:  
Here I can eat, and sleep, and pray,  
And do more good in one short day,  
Than he, who his whole Age out wears  
Upon the most conspicuous theatres,  
Where nought, but vanity and vice appears.   

2.  
Good God how sweet are all things here!  
How beautiful the Fields appear!  
How cleanly, do we feed and lie!  
Lord! what good hours do we keep!  
How quietly we sleep!  
What peace, what unanimity!  
How innocent from the lewd fashion,  
Is all our business, all our recreation!   

3.  
Oh, how happy here's our leisure!  
Oh, how innocent our pleasure!  
Oh, ye Valleys, Oh ye Mountains!  
Oh, ye Groves, and Crystal Fountains,  
How I love at liberty,  
By turns, to come and visit ye!   

4.  
Dear solitude, the Souls best friend,  
That Man, acquainted with himself dost make,  
And, all his maker's wonders to intent,  
With thee, I here converse at will,  
And would be glad to do so still,  
For, it is thou alone, that keep'st the Soul awake.   

5.  
How Calm, and quiet a delight,  
Is it, alone  
To read, and meditate, and write;  
By none offended, and, offending none?  
To walk, ride, sit, or sleep at ones own ease!  
And, pleasing a Man's self, none other to displease.   

6.  
Oh my beloved Nymph fair Dove;  
Princess of rivers, how I love  
Upon thy flowery Banks to lie,  
And view thy silver stream,  
When guilded by a Summer's beam!  
And in it, all thy wanton fry  
Playing at liberty:  
And, with my Angle upon them  
The all of treachery  
I ever learned industriously to try.   

7.  
Such streams, Rome's yellow Tiber cannot show,  
The Iberian Tagus or Ligurian Po;  
The Mause, the Danube, and the Rhine  
Are puddle water all, compared with thine:  
And Loyres pure streams yet too polluted are  
With thine much purer to compare;  
The rapid Garonne, and the winding Seine,  
Are both too mean  
Beloved Dove, with thee  
To vie priority;  
Nay, Tame and Isis, when conjoined submit,  
And lay their Trophies at thy silver feet.   

8.  
Oh my beloved Rocks that rise  
To awe the Earth, and brave the Skies:  
From some aspiring Mountains crown,  
How dearly do I love,  
Giddy with pleasure, to look down.  
And from the vales, to view the noble heights above!  
Oh my beloved Caves! from dog-stars heat,  
And all anxieties, my safe retreat:  
What safety, privacy, what true delight,  
In th' artificial night,  
Your gloomy entrails make,  
Have I taken, do I take!  
How oft when grief has made me fly  
To hid me from society,  
Even, of my dearest friends, have I  
In your recesses friendly shade;  
All my sorrows open laid.  
And, my most secret woes, entrusted to your privacy!   

10.  
Lord! would men let me alone;  
What an over happy one  
should I think myself to be!  
Might I in this desert place  
(Which most Men in discourse disgrace)  
Live but undisturbed and free!  
Here, in this despised recess  
Would I, maugre Winter's cold,  
And the Summer's worst excess,  
Try, to live out to sixty full years old!  
And, all the while  
Without an envious eye,  
On any thriving under fortunes smile,  
Contented live, and then, contented die.   C. C. 
FINIS.   

Courteous Reader,  
YOU may be pleased to take notice, that at the Sign of the Three Trout in St. Paul's Churchyard, on the North side, you may be fitted with all sorts of the best Fishing Tackle, by  
John Margrave.