he fattest standing water is always
the best; for, although the waters that run by chalk or cledgy soils be
good, and next unto the Thames water, which is the most excellent, yet the
water that standeth in either of these is the best for us that dwell in
the country, as whereon the sun lieth longest, and fattest fish is bred.
But, of all other, the fenny and marsh is the worst, and the clearest
spring water next unto it. In this business therefore the skilful workman
doth redeem the iniquity of that element, by changing of his proportions,
which trouble in ale (sometime our only, but now taken with many for old
and sick men's drink) is never seen nor heard of. Howbeit, as the beer
well sodden in the brewing, and stale, is clear and well coloured as
muscadel or malvesey,[141] or rather yellow as the gold noble, as our
pot-knights call it, so our ale, which is not at all or very little
sodden, and without hops, is more thick, fulsome, and of no such
continuance, which are three notable things to be considered in that
liquor. But what for that? Certes I know some ale-knights so much addicted
thereunto that they will not cease from morrow until even to visit the
same, cleansing house after house, till they defile themselves, and either
fall quite under the board, or else, not daring to stir from their stools,
sit still pinking with their narrow eyes, as half sleeping, till the fume
of their adversary be digested that he may go to it afresh. Such slights
also have the ale-wives for the utterance of this drink that they will mix
it with rosen and salt; but if you heat a knife red-hot, and quench it in
the ale so near the bottom of the pot as you can put it, you shall see the
rosen come forth hanging on the knife. As for the force of salt, it is
well known by the effect, for the more the drinker tippleth, the more he
may, and so doth he carry off a dry drunken noll to bed with him, except
his luck be the better. But to my purpose.

In some places of England there is a kind of drink made of apples which
they call cider or pomage, but that of pears is called perry, and both are
ground and pressed in presses made for the nonce. Certes these two are
very common in Sussex, Kent, Worcester, and other steeds where these sorts
of fruits do abound, howbeit they are not their only drink at all times,
but referred unto the delicate sorts of drink, as metheglin is in Wales,
whereof the Welshmen make no less account (and not without cause, i