DISCIPULA. He stops and eyes it, as though he half suspected that it would not be pleasant to the taste, for all its fair looks. But I'll have him, in spite of his wits. You scrutinize too closely, Sir Pike! You had better take it at once, without useless inspection. What a noble fellow! How gracefully he moves through the water! I will make it float carelessly away from him, dancing on the silver surface, as though it had just fallen fresh from Heaven; and beside, distance lends enchantment. Ha! see him make a dive at it! There you have it, Sir! and there I have you! PISCATOR. Take care, or you'll be over! Hold hard, or he'll have _you_ too! Upon my word, I was afraid you would go overboard! You should not, in your eagerness, lean out over the water so far. But you have got the better of him, and now pull him into the boat and let me take him off. DISCIPULA. I came near losing my balance; I thought I was gone! Lucky escape!--but my heart beats yet. PISCATOR. A fine fish. He has swallowed the bait whole; your large fish always do. O! I don't know as I can take it out, without hurting him. DISCIPULA. Poor fish! He does not look quite so spruce and independent as he did a little while ago. Did your mouth water for that tempting fly. It will never water again! What deep sighs heave his little breast! but they will soon be over. Fix the bait, Mr. Piscator, and rub some more lavender on it. I'll catch another, in less than a minute. PISCATOR. It is done already. And this time, do not lean over so far, or you will be in danger of being pulled in, by some fish of greater strength than usual. Really, I think you are a good angler; you seem to possess the skill by intuition. Is it not fine sport? I see by the increased flush and light of your countenance, that you are of the same opinion. It is truly a gentle, a feminine sport. DISCIPULA. There is one with the beautifulest eyes, and covered all over with gold and silver. But he is exceedingly shy. Come, Sir, if you are so distant, I shall have to approach you myself. I desire a nearer acquaintance with your beautiful eyes, and your gold and silver scales. Oh! if you move off in that direction, I shall retire in this! Ah, you've thought better of it, and are coming back. I knew you would. Observe, Mr. Piscator, how he turns round and hesitates and doubts what to do. There is no use in his deliberating; it is inevitable; he has got to do it. Now he turns back. He seems to have made up his mind that he must have it at all hazards. And see him shut his eyes and make a dash. I am afraid he finds it unpalatable! Too rash! too rash! You should have considered better! Take him off, master; he is nothing very great, after all.