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Piscator. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar to be so suitable
to
my own humour, which is to be free and pleasant and civilly merry,
that
my resolution is to hide nothing that I know from him. Believe me,
scholar, this is my resolution; and so here's to you a hearty draught,
and
to all that love us and the honest art of Angling.
Venator. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow your seed in
barren
ground; for I hope to return you an increase answerable to your
hopes:
but, however, you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable
to my best ability.
Piscator. 'Tis enough, honest scholar! come, let's to supper.
Come, my
friend Coridon, this Trout looks lovely; it was twenty-two inches
when
it was taken; and the belly of it looked, some part of it, as
yellow as a
marigold, and part of it as white as a lily; and yet, methinks,
it looks
better in this good sauce.
Coridon. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well, and tastes well:
I thank
you for it, and so doth my friend Peter, or else he is to blame.
Peter. Yes, and so I do; we all thank you: and, when we have
supped, I
will get my friend Coridon to sing you a song for requital.
Coridon. I will sing a song, if anybody will sing another, else,
to be
plain with you, I will sing none. I am none of those that sing
for meat,
but for company: I say,
'"Tis merry in hall,
When men sing all."
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