So, slow Boôtes underneath him sees In th' icy isles those goslings hatch'd of trees; Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water, Are turn'd, they say, to living fowls soon after. So, rotten sides of broken ships do change To barnacles. O transformation strange! 'Twas first a green tree; then, a gallant hull; Lately a mushroom; now, a flying gull. Venator. O my good master, this morning-walk has been spent to my great pleasure and wonder: but, I pray, when shall I have your direction how to make artificial flies, like to those that the Trout loves best; and, also, how to use them? Piscator. My honest scholar, it is now past five of the clock: we will fish till nine; and then go to breakfast. Go you to yonder sycamore-tree, and hide your bottle of drink under the hollow root of it; for about that time, and in that place, we will make a brave breakfast with a piece of powdered beef, and a radish or two, that I have in my fish bag: we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest, wholesome hungry breakfast. And I will then give you direction for the making and using of your flies: and in the meantime, there is your rod and line; and my advice is, that you fish as you see me do, and let's try which can catch the first fish. Venator. I thank you, master. I will observe and practice your direction as far as I am able. Piscator. Look you, scholar; you see I have hold of a good fish: I now see it is a Trout. I pray, put that net under him; and touch not my line, for if you do, then we break all. Well done, scholar: I thank you. Now for another. Trust me, I have another bite. Come, scholar, come lay down your rod, and help me to land this as you did the other. So now we shall be sure to have a good dish of fish for supper. Venator. I am glad of that: but I have no fortune: sure, master, yours is a better rod and better tackling. Piscator. Nay, then, take mine; and I will fish with yours. Look you, scholar, I have another. Come, do as you did before. And now I have a bite at another. Oh me! he has broke all: there's half a line and a good hook lost. Venator. Ay, and a good Trout too. Piscator. Nay, the Trout is not lost; for pray take notice, no man can lose what he never had. Venator. Master, I can neither catch with the first nor second angle: I have no fortune.