They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I think much
better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age.
Look yonder! on my word, yonder, they both be a-milking again. I will
give her the Chub, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us.
God speed you, good woman! I have been a-fishing; and am going to
Bleak Hall to my bed; and having caught more fish than will sup myself
and my friend, I will bestow this upon you and your daughter, for I use
to sell none.
Milk-woman. Marry! God requite you, Sir, and we'll eat it cheerfully.
And if you come this way a-fishing two months hence, a grace of God!
I'll give you a syllabub of new verjuice, in a new-made hay-cock, for it.
And my Maudlin shall sing you one of her best ballads; for she and I
both love all anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men. In the
meantime will you drink a draught of red cow's milk ? you shall have it
freely.
Piscator. No, I thank you; but, I pray, do us a courtesy that shall stand
you and your daughter in nothing, and yet we will think ourselves still
something in your debt: it is but to sing us a song that was sung by your
daughter when I last passed over this meadow, about eight or nine days
since.
Milk-woman. What song was it, I pray? Was it, " Come, Shepherds,
deck your herds " ? or, " As at noon Dulcina rested " ? or, " Phillida
flouts me " ? or, " Chevy Chace " ? or, " Johnny Armstrong " ? or, "
Troy Town " ?
Piscator.
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