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."
Piscator. I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately made, at my request, by Mr. William Basse; one that hath made the choice songs of the "Hunter in his Career," and of "Tom of Bedlam," and many others of note; and this, that I will sing, is in praise of Angling.
Coridon. And then mine shall be the praise of a Countryman's life. What will the rest sing of?
Peter. I will promise you, I will sing another song in praise of Angling to-morrow night; for we will not part till then; but fish to-morrow, and sup together: and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his business.
Venator. Tis a match; and I will provide you a song or a catch against then, too, which shall give some addition of mirth to the company; for we will be civil and as merry as beggars.
Piscator. Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to whet our whistles, and so sing away all sad thoughts. Come on, my masters, who begins? I think it is best to draw cuts, and avoid contention.
Peter. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to Coridon.
Coridon. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate contention
Coridon's song.