Venator. Oh me! look you, master, a fish! a fish! Oh, alas, master, I
have lost her.
Piscator. Ay marry, Sir, that was a good fish indeed: if I had had the
luck to have taken up that rod, then 'tis twenty to one he should not
have broken my line by running to the rod's end, as you suffered him. I
would have held him within the bent of my rod, unless he had been
fellow to the great Trout that is near an ell long, which was of such a
length and depth, that he had his picture drawn, and now is to be seen at
mine host Rickabie's, at the George in Ware, and it may be, by giving
that very great Trout the rod, that is, by casting it to him into the water,
I might have caught him at the long run, for so I use always to do when
I meet with an over-grown fish; and you will learn to do so too,
hereafter, for I tell you, scholar, fishing is an art, or, at least, it is an art
to catch fish.
Venator. But, master, I have heard that the great Trout you speak of is a
Salmon.
Piscator. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say to it. There are
many country people that believe hares change sexes every year: and
there be very many learned men think so too, for in their dissecting
them they find many reasons to incline them to that belief. And to make
the wonder seem yet less, that hares change sexes, note that Dr. Mer.
Casaubon affirms, in his book " Of credible and incredible things," that
Gasper Peucerus, a learned physician, tells us of a people that once a
year turn wolves, partly in shape, and partly in conditions.
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