A DISCOURSE OF Horsmanshippe.  
Wherein the breeding and riding of Horses for service, in a brief manner is more 〈…〉 set down then hath been heretofore. With a moreeasie and direct course for the ignorant, to attain to the same art or knowledge.  
Also the manner to choose, train, ride and diet, both Hunting-horses, and Running-horses: with all the secrets thereto belonging discovered. An art never heretofore written by any Author.  
Bramo assai, poco spero, nulla chiegio.  
AT LONDON, Printed by I. C. for Richard Smith, and are to be sold at his shop at the West-doore of Paul's. Anno. Dom. 1593.   

To the Right worshipful and his singular good Father, Ma. Robert Markham, of Cotham in the County of Nottingham, Esquire.  
I Have (Sir) in this Treatise of Horsemanship, gathered together my lives experience, most humbly offering the same to your patronage, as a work nothing at all worthy your reviewing, but carrying the name of Horsemanship which you have always favoured, I rather presume of kind acceptation. If I have erred, none better than yourself can correct me, if my work be perfect, there is no man's aplaus can better please me; How ever it be, yours it must be, and I myself for ever will be  Your obedient son: Ieruis Markham.  

To the Gentlemen Readers.  
THE wind (Gentlemen) standing in the mouth of my Cave, hath blown my lose papers into the world, and canonised me as foolish in Paul's Churchyard, as Sibylla was wise in Cuma: I have written of a subject, which many more than most excellent in the same art have entreated. If therefore their perfections shall withdraw your eyes from my labour, imagine it to be but a Parentisis' intruding itself amongst their works. And when you have overread it, you shall find it to detract nothing, but as a ready Handmaid, endeavour to bring their pleasures to effect, and discover that which hitherto hath been obscured. If therefore I shall find grace in your sights, my thanks shall be, that this my Treatise, shall teach you how to preserve your Horses from tiring, which otherwise in the midst of your pleasures, would give over shamefully.  I. M.  

CHAP. 1.  
Of breeding of Horses.  
IT is but ignorance and self will (the unwedded Parents of that ugly monster error) which hath blinded our English Heroes, from regarding in these latter times, that most excellent & praise worthy gift, the breeding, riding, and training up of Horsse●, which in all ages hath been most commendable: because of all things most commodious, and of beasts in nature to man the nearest. The dead cinders of which famous quality, if my young experience (yet in the Midwife's arms, scar●● ready for his 〈◊〉 swathing clouts) may revive again, in the pri●ate minds of those that shall view my la●our, I shall hold my pain an eternal pleasure, and myself fully 〈◊〉.  
〈…〉 being fallen. The second for the wintering of your Mares and foals. The third for your Colts being weaned and drawn from their Dams. For the first, I would have it a ley ground, with high ridge's and drepe furrows, and if it may be, full of great Molehills: that your foals by scoping & galloping thereon, shall be brought to such nimbleness, strength, and true footemanship, that they shall not only have a most excellent brave trot, but also during their lives, (not being strained too young) they shallbe free from that foul vice of stumbling.  
This ground I wish should lie open of the East, that the morning Sun may rise thereon, which doth not only revive and bring a lust to your foals, but also adds such a strength to their backs, and such a firm knitting of their joints, that they shall be more ready for the Rider at three years old, than others (bred contrarily) at 〈◊〉. For the watering place in this Close, I would have it some Pond, which is fed either by some fresh spring, or some running River, so as your fence stand between the River and your Mares: my reason is, because it is the nature and property of Mares, to covet to foal either in the water, or as near as they can possibly get.  
This being made, the two ends standing North and South, that the open sides may lie of the East and West, I would have made within, Racks of such height, that your foals may with ease reach them, and under them Maungers, to throw now and then into, Chaff, Corn, or garbage, which no doubt will bring your foals to bear most gallant foreheads, sith it only raiseth up a good crest, and also make them puissant and hard Horses for service.  
On the top of this house or shelter, I would have laid over-layer of wood in manner of a hovel, that thereon may 〈…〉 stackt your Hay and 〈◊〉 provision, either light Corn or wild Oats in the straw, which is the only thing that ever I have found by 〈◊〉 or reading, as a chief 〈◊〉 for foals.  
〈…〉 River, or fresh Pond for watering: if there be shelter of Trees or bushes, it much availeth, nevertheless, at some end of it, wo●lde I have either a close hovel or house built with Rack and Manger: whereto in the winter they may at their wills repair and find both Hay and garbage, the door being always open to pass in and out ●t.  
Lastly, for the fertileness of the soil, I would have it a rich black mould, so it be not forced by man●●re, for I assure you by proof, it is better to breed of a ●arrayne stony ground, then of such a ground as is manured every year, for the grass thereof is 〈◊〉 savoury nor wholesome. And thus much for the choice of your grounds to breed upon. Now it may be objected 〈…〉 by some, that I wronged myself in choosing of high grounds, sith they be neither to fruitful of grass, nor so convenient for water as lower grounds be. But my 〈…〉 is, he that breeds upon low grounds that he fruitful and full of rank grass, and keeps his Mares only for 〈◊〉 and not for work, shall find by proof, (as I have d●one) that in the winter season when they shall come to 〈…〉 most of his rare Mares, especially those which go●●●er, shall hazard to die of the rot, which will as soon in●ect Horses and Mares as Sheep, if they be not wrought: where contrary, upon high hard grounds, they shall be free from that infection.  
 
When you have therefore your 〈…〉 and used as I have before written, it then 〈◊〉 that you stock it with Mares, which for their strain, colour and comely sh●●pe, will be profitable to breed upon▪ Their strains, by which I mean their kinds or generations, I would have from a plain English breed of the Dam-side, their Si●rs being either Neapolitan Coursers, Spanish jenets, Turks, or Barbaries: the nature and property of all which Horses, Grison hath writ effectually.  
For the colours of your Mares, I would have them either brown daple bays, fair daple gray's, or bright white lyards: for their shapes thus, of stature tall, but not monstrous, a fiery eye, a small head, a little ear, a firm mane, a strong thin crest, a long neck, a big square breast, a broad back, a flat leg, a strait foot, and a hollow hoof: to which when you have attained, it shall then rest that you choose a Stallion to watch the beauty and goodness of your Mares: in choice of which, if I differ from other Writers, make it no wonder, but pardon me as well to write mine experience as they their judgements: sith I have made proof, and seen proof of all those Stallions they writ of, yet find them nothing so fit as another Horse, which in our English Authors is obscured.  
Master Blandavill, in his third Chapter where he compareth rares together, adviseth him that should breed a strong Horse for service, to choose for Stallion, either a Neapolitan Courser, a High Almain, a Hungarian, a Flaunders, or a Friestand: for the first being a Courser, I allow him as a most singular Horse to breed on, for the second the Almain, I disallow him as unfit, for he● is grossly made of nature, slothful, unnimble, cowardly, and so intolerable a burden to himself, that he is more ready in a charge to 〈◊〉 then trot. For the 〈◊〉, I like him not for a 〈◊〉 he hath so many bad shapes, as a great head, a narrow nostril, a small 〈◊〉, a full hoof, an empty ●elly, a py●●e buttock and a long lank body.  
For the Flaunders and Friesland, they be of all the worst, they be thick, chub-headed, hollow eyed, long backed, flat buttockt, weak jointed, especially in the pasterns, always ready to tire in a miles riding: and so rough hayrd about the fetlocks, that to mend their other deformities, in spite of the best Keepers, they will never be without the pains and scratches.  
Also, Master Blandavill adviseth him that will breed Amblers, to choose for Stallion a jenet of Spain, or an Irish Hobby: and for him that will breed Runners, a Barbary or a Turk. Of these I well allow, for they be good, albeit the jenet is not so fit for that purpose: for though he be of high pride and comely shape, yet be their paces weak and uncertain, especially their ambles, in which they always wave to and fro, carrying their bo●●es uncertainly.  
Now to come to the true Stallion, who for his brave trot, and pure virtue of valour in the Field, is a stain to all other Horses: whose comely and easy amble, may be an eternal instruction to all Alderman's Hackneys, how to rock their Masters into a sound sleep, whose wonderful speed both in short and long courses, may make our English Prickers, hold their best runners but Ba●●●es, who by nature hath all things perfect, nothing defective: him I hold a fit Stallion to breed on, and a fit beast for his Master to hazard his life on, and this is only the Courser of Arabia. A Courser I term him, because once happening on an old writing of a Muncks, written in parchment, about the meeting of Achilles and Hector, written that Achilles road on an Arabian Courser.  
This Horse of Arabia, is of a reasonable stature, neither too high nor too low, but upright and clean fashioned, his head is small, lean and slender, his nostril (if he be angered) wonderful wide, his eyes like fire, ready to leap out of his head, his ears sharp, small, and somewhat long, his chaule thin and wide, his thropell large, his neck long, his crest high, thin and firm●, his back short, his chine a handful broad and more, his buttock long, upright and clean, the stern of his tail, wellnigh so small as a man's finger, but in strength beyond any other Horse, the hair thereon so thin as is possible: his legs are small and clean, having no hair on his fetlock, his body ●lender and round: in brief, his cote in general is so fine, that it is not possible almost in any part of him but his mane and tail, to catch hold to pull of one hair. The colour of that Arabian which I have seen, and which is even now under mine hands, is a most delicate bay, whom if you view in the Sun, you will judge him either like changeable Satin or cloth of God.  
This Arabian is of nature mild and gentle to his Rider and Keeper, but to strangers most cruel: they will bite like Mastiffs, if you offer to strike them, they will run open mouthed at you like a dog, and the more you strike, the more they will bite, they ●eare nothing, the night and day is with them all one: and as those Gentlemen report that have travailed in those Countries, they ordinarily live till fifty and threescore years.  
This Horse for a Stallion is peerless, for he hath in him the purity and virtue of all other Horses. They be so excellent for travail, that this Arabian (of which I have the riding) being travailed from a part of Arabia called Angelica to Constantinople, and from thence to the higher-most parts of Germany by land, and so by Sea to England, yet was he so courageous and lively, (having no flesh on his back) that by no means he could be ruled.  
Having gotten yourself a Stallion of this Country, being young and lusty, which commonly are the best, or for want of such, (because they be rare,) one of those which I have before mentioned, I would wish you thus to breed, in the month of March or April, or from mid March till mid May following: for before and after those times I do not allow the covering of Mares. 〈…〉 having newly changed, and finding your Mare ready for the Horse, which you shall know by her running too and fro, and by her pride, or else by proving her with some bad stand jade, I would have you bring her in an evening into some empty Barn or waste ho●se, and then your Horse, having been in the soil a week at least, put him to her, and let him abide with her all night, and in the morning when the Sun is up take him from her, and feed him well either with Bread or Oates, and at night put him to her again in like manner, and thus d●● for three or four days together, provided always that you keep your Mare during that time from any meat, unless it be a handful or two of new mown grass once a day, but in any case no water at all: and in this order would I have you one after one, (so there be between eu●ry one three days at the least) cover all your Mares, and you shall find no way more easy, surer, nor safer.  
It may seem in me a point of no less absurdity than arrogancy, to set down this peremptory resolution, of covering of Mares, when Xenophon, Vegetius, Grison, and all our English writers, have concluded and set down precepts for the covering of Mares to be abroad, and that the Stallion should run with them in open places, to which opinion I am clean opposite. If therefore my reasons and practice shall be found in equal balance with their former judgements, I doubt not but the censures of the wiser, will allow me, though the ignorant carp at my writings.  
My first reason therefore is, that that Horse whi●● can be kept within the bounds of a Pale, Real, or quicke-sette hedge, having a fair prospect & liberty to look over them, him▪ I say is not worthy to be bred of, for it 〈…〉 that he is of a gentle or good disposition, but 〈…〉 dull, heavy and weak nature: neither can he be a true Arabian Neapolitan, nor of any good strain, for no Horse of good courage (much more they) will be kept but within 〈…〉 which they can by no means look, and every one that will endeavour himself to breed a good horse, cannot have a walled ground, but were it so that every one had a walled ground, yet shall you find many inconveniences. First, (for I have noted it) many years if your Mares be in lust or pride, you shall be in venture to have never a Colt-foale, for your Horse being hot and at liberty, in two or three of the first days he will so disorderly spend himself, both on the Mares and for want of food, (for Stallion will never eat much amongst Mares) that being weak & the Mares in pride, they will be so much too strong for him in conception, that you shall breed only Fillies.  
Again, running amongst your Mares, some will be ready, some unready, in so much that the Horse being courageous, he will cover the ready Mare so oft, that those which shall be ready to be served after, shall either not hold at all, or else bring forth weak and uncomely 〈◊〉. Also it is the nature and property of the Arabians and Neapolitans, to be so extreme furious & hot of the Mares, that if they be at their own liberties, they will never leave covering till they have killed themselves, and th●n in time of service shall the want of such a Horse be found: as I 〈…〉 number of instances were it not needless. To reme●● which annoyance and loss, and to be sure of as good or ra●●●● better Colts, I wish you only to use the way before 〈◊〉.  
 
It shall now therefore be expedient to treat somewhat ●●●ching the bringing up of your foals and weaning them. After your Mares have foaled, I would have you let them run in some fresh pasture, that thereby they may have store of milk, to keep your foals in lust and pride, and in no case to take your foals from them for the space of a year, but let them continually run with their Dams, unless it be some baggage foal that is not worth any thing, for the weaning of them as some do at Martilmas or Christmas, is such a weakening and plucking back of their strength & groweth, that they hardly recover it in two years after, as I have found often by proof. Besides, the weaning of them so early, and forcing them to live either of Hay or grass, which at that time is but unsavoury fog, fills them so full of cold humours through their raw digestion, that they cannot but be incident both to the strangle, the worms, and great inflammations in their heads, whereof they commonly die, unless they have present remedy: for if they have but grass to feed on when the days and nights are sharp & stormy, they being weak and tender, will rather pine then grass, in somuch that for want of food they fall away, and so being in poverty, are subject to every disease.  
〈…〉 comes, they will be so fit and apt to receive the Stallion, as you can any ways devise or wish, whereas if their foals be drawn from them, and they themselves have liberty to feed without either travel or working, they will grow so gross, that by reason of their extreme fatness, the matrix or place of conception will be so straightened, that they will either not at all hold to the Horse, or holding, bring forth but small foals. And thus much have I thought good to write, as touching your grounds to breed on, the choice of your Mares and Stallion, the ordering of them both, and the bringing up of your young foals. For other things which I have omitted, as touching the special marks of Horses, their complexion and colours, their sundry kinds, their natures & dispositions, I refer you to Grison or Blandavill, who of those things have writ sufficiently.  
It resteth therefore that I speak as touching the weaning of your foals, which I would wish in this order. Your foals having run with your Mares the space of a year, or within a month, in somuch that they are ready to foal again, I would wish you to draw them from their Dams, and lock them in some close house for a night: then in the morning to take them, and to give each of them two or three slips of savin, and so to let them rest two or three hours after: this savin is a most sovereign Medicine for the worms, which will be most abundant in young foals, insomuch that if they have not present remedy upon the first drawing from their Dams, they will many times suddenly drop away and die.  
Having thus done, I would have you to put them in the Close for the purpose before prescribed, where they may run until they shall be found fit for the saddle, provided always, that they be neither within the sight or hearing of their Dams for a week and more, nor that your filly foals be suffered to run with your Colts, but be kept in several.   

CHAP. 2.  
The art of riding.  
How young Colts should be handled, tamed, ridden, and made perfect both for service and pleasure.  
WHen your Colts have attained the age of three years old and the vantage, which is from April or May, till Martilmas or Chrstmas, it were good you drive them up into some close house, where having good strength of men, you may halter them, which I would wish to be done with all the gentleness and quiet means that may be. When your Colt is once haultered, then offer to lead him forth into some Court or Close, where when he comes, there is no doubt but (n●t having been in hand before) he will be unruly, and offer both to run away and plunge: which when he covets to do, suffer him even as far as your chase halter will give him leave, and then with a good strength even in his running or leaping, give him such a twitch back, that you make his neck ready to crack again: or else pluck him upon his buttocks, and fail not but as oft as he strives to break away, so oft do you pluck him back with these sudden strains and twitches, the commodity whereof is this.  
If he be a Horse of a thick, short and strong forehand, and withal of wilful and haughty courage, this straining and over-maistering him in the halter, will make him so pliant of his neck and so tender of his head, that (fearing the like correction) he will neither offer to break from his Keeper when he shall lead him, nor endanger his Rider, with that villainous quality of running away. Moreover, this manner of conquering him with the halter, 〈◊〉 bring him to such a sensible feeling of correction, that when he shall come to wear Musrole, Chain or Cavezan, all which be many degrees beyond the halter in cruelty and terror, his Rider shall find him so obedient to his hand, that he shall place his head where he list, and in one weeks training, rule the Colt how he list.  
But if he be a sullen jade that will neither run nor leap, but only hang back, then let some standers by with long poles or goads beat him and prick him, till you make him lead up and down gently, not forgetting but to make much and cherish him, when you shall find him obedient and pliant to your will. This done, let him be set up in the stable, and pull off his chase halter for fear of galling his head too much, and put on a flat collar of double Leather. Let his Keeper be always trifling and d●●ing somewhat about him, either rubbing or clawing him in one place or other where he shall find him most ticklish or dainty: still giving him kind words, as ho boy, ho boy, or holl● love, so my nag, and such like terms, till he have won him to his will that he will suffer him to dress him: take up his legs and pick him in every place: provided always, (and let both his Rider and Keeper hold it as an especial rule of good horsemanship,) never to do any thing about a Colt, either suddenly, hastily, or rudely: but come to him softly, do every thing about him leisurely, and be careful not to fright him with so much as an evil word: for when unskilful Horsemen will come to their Horses with sudden motions, and violent furies, that makes Horses learn to strike, to bite, to start at the saddle, to refuse the bridle, and to find boggards at men's faces. Therefore let all things be done with lenity and discretion, and yet not so void of correction, but that if he be a stubborn jade, which through will & churlishness will withstand his Rider, you may with a sharp rod correct him: making him as well understand when he offendeth, as when he pleaseth.  
When your Colt is thus in the stable made gentile, that he will be curried, rubbed, picked, cold, clothed, scopt, shod, and lead up and down, either to the water or from the water, all which a painful man will easily perform in 〈◊〉 month, then would I have a saddle brought to him, in the gentlest manner that may be. First let him smell to it, then let it rub his shoulder, than his side, than his buttock, and so by degrees set it on his back, not failing to set it on and take it off many times ere you let it rest: always cherishing him.  
When it is so seated on his back, then let one on the further side of the Horse deliver you the garths, and gird it on first so slack as he may scarce feel them, then by littl● and little, draw them straighter and straighter, till you feel the saddle so firm that it cannot stir: then with your hand clap upon the saddle, at which if he startle, with fair words encourage him, and clap harder, not de●●ting, but one while clapping, another while shaking the saddle, till you find in the Colt a careless regard of the noise, & that he will neither shrink nor stir for any thing you do about him. Then take a Trench or watering Snaffle, but the Trench I rather prefer, and anoint it with Honey and Salt, than put it in the Colts mouth, casting the reins thereof over the Saddle pommel: yet in any case not so straight as either it may draw in the Colt's head, or force him to strive against it, but let it lie in his mouth, that he may work and play upon it at his pleasure.  
In this sort let him be trimmed every day for the space of a week, and so walked abroad in his Keeper's hand, that he may be acquainted with the Saddle, with the bridle, ●●yrrops, and other implements about him: which being do●ne effectually, his Rider may with more surety and boldness venture to back him, which I would wish and have followed in this order. Let him be saddled as I have before set down, but with great care, so that the saddle may neither slip sideways, forward, or backward, but stand firm in his place.  
Let the one end théereof be buckled to the garths between the Horse's legs, the other end to the leather of the Musrole, but yet so slack, that the Horse may have no more 〈…〉 feeling of the Musrole when he shall iert or throw his 〈◊〉 aloft, then put on his Trench, and let his Keeper walk● him fair and softly forth to some new ploughed péecs of ground▪ where after you have pausd a space & cherrisht the Colt, make ●ffer to put your foot into the ●●●i●rop, at 〈…〉 fault and refuse to abide, then chase him awhile 〈◊〉 his Keeper on that new ploughed ground, and then cherish him and come to him again and offer the like, which if he refuse then, chase him again, and leave him not till 〈…〉 as he stand quietly, and suffer you to put your 〈…〉.  
〈…〉 time get gently into the Saddle, and seat yourself quietly without moving or stirring. Place your body upright, your eyes between his ears, your legs strait out without spurs, and your rod upright by your shoulder, lest if you should hold it low before his eyes, it might breed in him some affright or amazement, which were a gross error in a Horses first backing.  
Being thus mounted & well placed, let his Keeper offer to lead him forward gently, which if he do quietly, (as there is no doubt but he will) then let the Keeper lay off his hand, and let his Rider mildly put him forward, not coveting to have him keep any one way or furrow, but suffering the Colt to go as himself shall best like, sometimes overthwart, sometimes endwaies, or as he shall be disposed: observing this rule always, to carry a gentle upright hand of the Colt, neither so hard that it may by any means either move stay in him, or force him to find fault at the correction, or writhe his mouth or neck: neither so slack, that he may either win the head of you to put it between his forelegges, which they will most commonly covet, or make proffer to run away by reason of too great liberty, which to the best Horses is most natural. Therefore I say, carry a gentle hand, so as you may have a feeling of the Colt, and the Colt no more but a perfect say of your hand, unless extremity compel you. And because the hand is the only instrument, and chief guide to bring a Horse to his perfection, I will before I go any further, show both the use of the hand in the first backing, and also the carrying of the reins.  
Being seated in your Saddle as is before mentioned, take the rain of your bridle and fold the one side over the other, making each side both of an even length, & so short, that you may have the Colt's head at commandment, then lay on both your hands, the one a handful distant from the other, and do not draw your hands to the Saddle pommel, or pluck them close in to your body, but place them over the midst of his crest, pulling his head still upward and aloft, not drawing it in as to bring him to an uniformity of rain, for that shall be but a marring of his mouth, and the first rule to bring a comely forehand to an evil show: but as I said, lift your hands still upward, suffering them always to go and come with easy motions, only to this end, that you may gather up his neck to the uttermost height, that art or nature will by any means suffer it.  
Now forasmuch as some Horses, have naturally such good fore-hands and such comely reins, that the Rider needeth little labour and less art, as for example, he that hath a long large upright neck, a wide chaule and a dainty mouth, othersome so imperfectly framed by nature, that though the Rider use extreme industry and much art, yet if he have not the very ground and absolute knowledge of horsemanship, he shall never bring him to staidness, comeliness or good show, as those which be short necked, narrow chauld, thick headed, and dead mouthed. And sith these contraries, must have contrary means to bring them to their perfections, because lenity to him that is dull and stubborn, will from a little, bring him to just nothing doing, and cruelty to him that is free, apt and courageous, is the high way not only to mar him, but also to kill him: and because the only art of riding, consisteth in the making of a comely, stayed, and well fashioned rain, I will here set down the manner, how they ought both kinds of them to be trained and taught, drawing all the natures, dispositions and umors of Horses, into these two heads or branches, Dullness and Freeness.  
Under this word dullness, I conclude such as be heavy natured, slow, unapt, churlish, always craving correction, resty and forgetful: under this word fréenes, I conclude those that be light, nimble, courageous, apt, that will catch a lesson from his Rider ere it be fully taught him, and is always ready for more than can be put unto him, therefore I will begin first (because they ask more labour and art) with those kind of Horses which I termed dull. Having backed your Horse as is before prescribed, and made him to receive you off and on at your pleasure, which may be done in a day or two, then enter into the nature and disposition of the Horse, (which who so cannot find, let him neither profess nor expect to be a Horseman,) then finding him to be of nature dull and untoward, neither apt to proud pace nor rain, in any case neither offer him lesson nor Ring, but being mounted on his back, and having paused & settled yourself, thrust him out into a good round trot, the length of twenty or forty score, all the way with your hands working up his head aloft: and then offer to stop him, by drawing in your hand more firm and hard than you were wont in the working up of his head, at which if he offer to thrust down his head, and will not stay, thrust him forward as far again, and then offer him the stop, provided always you keep him in a swift trot, in which if he prove slothful, as no doubt but he will, then revive him with a sharp rod, with your voice, and with the ierting of your legs and body forward at once.  
If at the second offer, he refuse to yield in his head or stop, then at him the third time, the fourth and the fift, till you have trotted him a mile or somewhat more: then turn him homeward, and exercise him after the same manner, which peradventure will the first day nothing at all prevail with him, but be you careless, & in any case strive not with him, or seek by strong hand to overcome him, for so you shall mar his mouth, teach him many knavish qualities, and no more make his head move then a great Oak: but take him out the second day, and then troth him forth two miles, and always in twelve score, six score, or twenty score, as you find your ground or feel your Horse, offer him the stop, which if he refuse, marvel not, but take him out the third day, the 4. and 5. increasing his travel as his days increase. And if you find in him an ability of body and strength, to which you must have great respect, & only an untoward stubbornness and unaptness, hinders what you go about, then spare not to labour him two or three hours together about the fields, till by this your labour & toil you make him yield to your hand, which you shall no sooner perceive but immediately make much of him, cherish him, light from his back, and give him grass or green corn if there be any near you: and fail not but exercise him thus for a week or a fortnight, in which space you may make him so well acquainted with your hand, that when soever you shall but strain your bridle rain, he will yield and stop at your pleasure. It may be the first day you troth him forth, you shall find him of such a gentle mouth, that at the first proffer he will stop, yet covet to have his head between his legs, and troth but slovenly and like a jade: which if he do, them look what travel I prescribed you for the stop, employ the self same, only to the raising up of his head, to the bringing of him to lightness, to a fair trot and forwardness of way, which no mean that ever I tried or saw, will so soon bring to pass as this.  
This done, then walk about your large Ring three times on your left hand, & then change within your Ring as you did before, observing for your left hand your left rain and your right leg, then will your large Ring have two whole Rings within the same, as this figure following showeth.  
Now when by this your travail, you have brought your Horse that he will willingly place this Ring, & make his change within, on both hands without compulsion, them may you well adventure to trot him in the same, making him do it with spirit and nimbleness: provided always that if you find him unwilling to make his changes on both hands within the Ring, and that he rather covets to move his neck and head than his body, all which should go even, & equally together, then make your changes in this manner.  
When you would have him turn on your right hand, draw your left rain strait, and so hold it, then moving gently your right hand rain, lay the calf of your left leg close to his side, & with your rod on his left shoulder, make him come in on your right hand as yourself would, and so likewise for your left hand use the like contrary means, which when you have found by experience to prevail, and that by this means and exercise, he will both pace and troth this Ring with good courage, (which you must chiefly respect,) and that he will make his stop close and well, and at the motion of your hand retire, which in one Months practise (at the most) you may at ease perform, then shall it be requisite you teach him to gallop the same Ring in this sort.  
First when you come into the field, as I have before prescribed, gently place him about your Ring, that he may thereby know about what he goeth, than put him to his trot, and force him to trot it with great life, still thrusting him forward with your feet and body, till you make him gallop, then having galloped a stroke or two, draw in your hand, and make him but trot again: then having trotted awhile, make him gallop somewhat more than he did before, and then trot, and thus increase your gallop by little and little, as first a stroke or two, then half the Ring, than three parts, and at length all the Ring round about, but by no means for a day or two let him gallop your changes.  
And note here, that although I set you down this abrupt manner of beginning to gallop, yet nevertheless, in this as in the rest, you must observe your three times on a hand, as to place once about, to trot once, and gallop once, or to place the one half of the Ring, trot the other, gallop an other, and then pace again, as your own discretion shall move you, till you find in your Horse (through this manner of instruction) such a readiness, that but moving either your leg, body, rod or voice, he will instantly take his gallop: which being perceived, as no doubt but you shall within three or four days riding, then may you take this order.  
When you begin in the morning, first place him thrice about your Ring on your right hand, and then changing do as much on your left hand, then change again, and trot thrice on your right hand, and thrice on your left, then gallop thrice on your right hand, thrice on your left, and thrice on your right hand again, then gallop strait forthright forty yards or more, and there, by drawing in your hand even, firm, and at leisure, make him stop and stand still awhile, then put him back two or three paces, and let him stand still without moving for a good space, neither do you yourself either stir your legs or body, but only with your hand, voice, and the big end of your rod, claw him and make much of him, thereby to encourage him in his well doing: And after this sort and manner (as I have here prescribed) would I have you exercise, him for three weeks or a month, if you find him dull or untoward.  
Now, for that sundry observations are to be observed in this lesson, I will so far digress from my purpose, as first to let you understand them. Note therefore that in this lesson as in all other, you must have an especial regard that your Horse carry a gallant rain, his head round and lofty, without either thrusting his nose out like a Pig, or putting his head between his legs like a fearful Bear-whelp, which you shall not bring to pass by haling or pulling at his mouth, but by keeping his Martingale stiff, and by feeding his mouth with a gentle hand, the always comes and goes with sweet motions. Note that when you gallop him on your right hand, if he either come not in so round as you would have him, or if he throw his hinder parts out of the Ring, as many Horses will, that then you correct him, by beating him on the flank on the left side, with the in side of your left leg, which if it preu●●●e not, then with your spur strike him, and with your rod on his left buttock: which will in once or twice going about, make him glad to keep his Ring: and so for the other hand, use the like mean on the other side.  
Note that when you make your changes on either hand, in which you draw your Horse into a strait compass, that than you pull your bridle rains more strait than before: and putting the calves of your legs close to your Horse sides, you ierte them forward again with a good strength, not ceasing but so to do, till you come again into your large Ring, the effect whereof is this: the bringing of the calves of your legs to your Horse's sides, will in his gallop make him raise up his foreparts, and then the jerking of your legs forward, will so put on your Horse, that not staying, his hinder legs will follow his forelegges in such comely sort, that as if he were taught to beat an artificial turn, even with such nimbleness, strength, and comely grace will he make his changes: and and by this means, when he shall be taught to make his turns, you shall find him more apt, ready, and a thousand times more free from any manner of vice belonging to that lesson.  
Therefore in this, use great labour and diligence, especially in keeping just time with your leg and hand, for if either your leg and hand go so very fast, that the horse cannot keep time with you, or if your motions be so slow, that the Horse must stay for you, or if in stead of the calf of your leg you give the spur, then be you assured, you do not make but mar, for as the one doth help, the other doth correct: and the difference betwixt them, who cannot judge.  
Nevertheless, if the Horse be dull and stubborn, of which king I most entreat, for in them is the depth of art to be tried, and that you find the calf of your leg will not quicken him, than it shall be needful that you use the even stroke of both your spurs, which having revived him, them use the calves of your legs, and as oft as he waxeth heavy and dull, so oft use your spurs and rod, and not otherwise in this lesson. Note that when you gallop your Horse forthright in the even furrow to give him his stop, that a little space before you stop him, you thrust him out with more force and courage then before, that thereby in the stop he may couch his hinder loins the closer, and make his stop more firm and comely. Note that if in the stop he will not couch his hinder loins, but will altogether trust to his forelegges, which is both unsure and unseemly, that then you choose such a piece of earth to ride upon, as your even furrow may be descending down the knoll of some hill, where in the deepest descent, you may observe always to make your Horse stop, by which means you shall both make him to yield his hinder parts, and also if the ground where by chance you shall ride him, he lose and uncertain, rather than the will overshoote his ground, he will stop upon his buttocks.  
Note that when you make your Horse go back, if he thrust his hinder parts out of the furrow and go crookedly, that then with the calf of your leg on that side which he swerveth on, you correct him, in which if he persist, then use your rod, yet but in gentle sort, and sometimes your spur, and that but seldom.  
After thus your Horse can place, trot, and gallop your Ring, and make his stop in good sort, which be well assured he doth perfectly and readily, ere you offer him any new lesson, it shall be necessary that for a grace, and beautifying of what he doth, that then you teach him to advance before: which as it doth adorn, so doth it carry great profit and commodity, and therefore you may bring him unto it in this manner. Ride him into some beaten highway which is either gravel or sandy, and there trot him forward a dozen yards or there about, and then make him stop, and in the stopping, give him the calves of both your legs even together, and also your voice, by letting your tongue part sharply from the roof of your mouth, together with the noise of your rod shaken in your hand: which at the first will peradventure but move in your horse a stamaring or amazement, but be you careless, and trot him forward again as far as you did before, and there offer him the like stop, and the like motions, at which if he refuse to advance, and offer to run back, then thrust him forward with your legs, and solicit him till you make him take up but one of his legs, which when you perceive, immediately cherish him, and let him pause a space, then trot him forward, and do as you did before, continuing this manner, till you find your Horse understandeth your meaning.  
But what for want of use and nimbleness he will not perform, or do it according to your mind, when this you find, which you shall perceive by his lifting up of one leg, or by advancing of both upon compulsion or great correction, then shall you labour him in this lesson, always correcting him when he is untoward, and cherishing him when he giveth any show of likelihood to perform your will, till such time that you have made him, that he will upon the moving of your leg to his side, advance himself before, carrying his head in his true place, and taking his legs up even together, in such sort as the true art of horsmanshippe requires.  
When thus he will advance, then shall you exercise him to stop upon footpace, and to advance withal, after that, upon his trot both slow and swift, to stop and advance: and lastly, upon his gallop to stop and advance. Now for such notes and observations, as are to be observed during the▪ teaching of this, I will here set down. First note that when you stop your Horse, and compel him to advance, that you do not hang upon his mouth, or press it too sore, for that is the ready way to spoil all, and make him run away, but only carry such a gentle firm hand, as may no more but stay him from pressing forward, nay let your hand be such, that he may rather have liberty to press forward a pace or two, then by your extreme pulling of him, that he may have his mouth dulled: and by that means, not only win the head from you, but be as new to begin, as if he had never been haultred.  
Note, that if he chance (being at the first ignorant of your meaning,) to press forward two or three paces, that then you make him retire and go back, just so much as he went forward, that thereby he may know he did offend, and therefore after adread to do the like.  
Note, that if in a days riding or two, ne three, you can not bring him to that perfection you would, that then you be not discouraged, but continue your labour, for those Horses that are the slowest of conceit, and hardest to understand their Riders meaning, being once brought to know what they must do, are always the surest holder's, and ever after, the perfectest performers of any lesson, whatsoever.  
Note, that if he either advance too high, or when you would not have him, as the best metaled Horses most commonly will do, that then with a good ●udgell you beat him upon the forelegges, or with the great end of your rod, between the ●ares correct him, and undoubtedly he will reform that abuse.  
Note, that after he will advance perfectly and in order, that then in every stop when you make him advance, that you make him do it twice, thrice, and sometimes four times together, without intermission, and then to stand still, the profit whereof you shall find, when you come to teach your Horse to do the Coruett capriole, and such like salts of pleasure, to which this is the perfect pathway and guide.  
Now for as much as I am in matters of service, I will follow that purpose, and hereafter come to things of pleasure. When your Horse can absolutely well do all these lessons before mentioned, which by continual travel, use, and exercise, you must bring him unto, for in any case you must offer no new lesson till the old be most perfect, least by making a confusion in the Horse's sense, and for want of true conceit and understanding, he be brought to do just nothing, as many unskilful Horsemen do at this day, who will strive to make their Horses gallop their Rings, stop, turn, advance, go back, and all in one morning: never considering, that a Horse is a beast, whose capacity can conceive no more than a beast, which absurdity I wish the wiser sort to eschew.  
The manner of bringing your Horse to do this lesson, is thus, first mark out upon your right hand in a fair footpace, a Ring of a reasonable size, being about a three yards over every way, than another on your left hand joining to the former, and so making your Rings still forward, make a third on your right hand again, which done, put your Horse into his gallop, and as you did place the Rings, so let him gallop them back again: and then putting him strait forward twenty or forty yards, make your stop and advancement, thus would I have you every morning when you bring your Horse forth, to teach him.  
After you have trotted and galloped your Ring first of all mentioned, finding him of sufficient strength and ab●●●●e, after some little rest and ease, let him gallop these latter Rings, which I term galloping the ●●●lde. And note that for any certain number of turns in this lesson▪ or any other certainty what soever (save the carrying of his head, which must alway keep his true place in all lessons,) there is none to be respected, but all to be referred to the Riders discretion. Therefore the Rider must have a great regard, that in this lesson he put not the Horse beyond his strength, or force him to gallop, longer than he shall find the Horse of himself willing to press forward: for if he be over-toyld, and brought to a weariness and sloth, he will not only learn to prove resty, but also being young and tender, put forth splints, spavens, ringbones, and such like foul diseases to bring him to lameness.  
Note that for any vice incident to this lesson, (if the Rider have him perfect in the former,) there is none, because in effect, these Rings and the former Ring is all one, save that these be in a larger manner, which is more easy: and in the first, is a certain order and method to be used, and in these none, but only a confusion, yet a care of true time keeping. Note, that when your Horse can perfectly well gallop the field, that then you shall not need to exercise him in it above once in a week.  
Now having thus far continued my purpose, I will consequently forward to the other lessons, in which there is more art, and greater curiosity. And first of all, having your Horse perfect in these lessons before prescribed, you shall then teach him to turn readily on both hands, and for that there be sundry manner of turns, as some straight, 〈◊〉 large, some close, some lofty, I will show you how to bring your Horse to do them all perfectly. First therefore, you shall teach your Horse to make that turn which we term (not having any apt English word) ●ncauallare, to lap one thing over another.  
This kind of turn, is the ground of all other turns, and by it, the rest are attained to with more ease: this manner of turn, is to keep your Horses hinder parts firm in a place, and make him come about with his forepartes, lapping his 〈◊〉 fore-legge over his inmost as he turneth, in this sort. Trot your Horse strait down some even furrow, and there stop him, and stand still awhile, then drawing up your bridle rain somewhat firm, yield your bridle hand a little, but so little as may be, towards your right side, then with the calf of your leg on his left side, and your rod on his left shoulder, make him (so standing)▪ without any larger compass, to turn his foreparts that way which his hinder parts were, which if he do willingly, cherish him: and then making that half circle a complete round one, set him as he stood before. Thus as you did on your right hand, do so likewise on your left, using the like helps with your right leg, and your r●dde on his right shoulder, then cherish him, and so doing the like on your right hand again, that you may end where you begun, light from his back, and give him a handful of grass if there be any near you.  
So walking him up and down a while for his ease, you may take his back again, and do as you did before, increasing still his turns, as you see him increase in perfectness and willingness, till such time as you have him so ready, as upon the motion of your leg and hand, he will fly about so swiftly & so oft, as you shall either offer or desire. Now for observations and notes in this lesson, these be they: first you shall understand when you offer him this lesson, if he refuse upon the moving of your leg and hand to turn, and will covet to rear, or do such like dysorderly acts, that then upon the first proffer of such disorder, you do but slack the reins of your bridle, and with your hand upon his crest keep him down, offering him again to turn, which if nevertheless he will not, then draw the right side rain somewhat straighter, than the left, yet in any case, not so much that his head may go a hair breadth before his body, but move altogether, at which if he make any stick, them with your rod on his left shoulder, give him a good iert that may make him stir, and doubt not but he will then turn, which when he offers, immediately follow him with your hand and leg till he have gone half about, where you may then pause to cherish him. Note furthermore, that if he refuse to move his forepartes and offer to come about with his hinder, that then you meet his hinder parts so moving, with your rod, and upon his buttock correct him, making him keep his hinder parts firm and fast: if your rod be not a correction sufficient, then may you use sometimes your spur in his flank, both which, if you find prevail not, then must you cause him to pace out a little narrow ring, not above a yard, or a yard and a half overthwarte, which you must make him tread one while on one hand, another while on another, sometimes by the space of a quarter of an hour, sometimes more: and let him do it continually on his footpace, and not on his trot. This shall bring him to great lightness on his foreparts, and make him repose such trust to his hinder, that you shall bring him unto the incavallare, as yourself would wish or desire.  
Note that if he do it willingly on the right hand, and not without compulsion on the left, that then you always begin and end on your left hand, as you did before on your right. Note that when you turn him on your right hand, if he do not bring his left leg over his right, but brings it sometimes short, sometimes under, and so forth ill-favouredly, that for such offence you use no other correction but still to labour him the more in this lesson: for by such labour he shall come to understand his fault, and by the knocking of one of his legs upon another, correct himself enough for that vice.  
Note that the more he lappeth his outmost leg over his inmost, the better and more comely shall his turn be. Note that the more you follow him in his turn with your hand and leg, the further you compel him to lap his legs one over another. When therefore your Horse can set this close turn upon the ground, both swiftly and in perfection, then shall you proceed to teach him beat a large ring turn loftily, which at this day amongst our English Horsemen is most in use, and it is to be done in this manner following.  
You must place out a little narrow Ring, some 4. yards or there about in compass, and use to walk your Horse in the same, until such time that you perceive him so ready, that he will place it willingly, carrying his head and body both firm together, not offering to fly out, or use any disorderly motion: which when you find, then shall you as you walk him about the Ring, on your right hand, with your voice and calf of your left leg, and with drawing your bridle rain a little more firm, cause him to advance, which so soon as he doth, immediately by the thrusting of both your legs forward again, make him place forward as he did before, and in his pacing cherish him, that he may understand he did your will: then having so paced awhile, make him advance again, & do in all things as you did before. Thus may you do three or 4. times on your right hand, and then make the like Ring on your left hand, and with the help of your right leg, do in this as in the other, not forgetting to make your ending on your right hand, as you did in other lessons. But by the way note this, that in any case you do not end upon your advancement, but upon his pace or trot, for if you do, you shall bring him to a resty quality, that upon his advancement he will stand still, whether you will or no. When he will therefore place this Ring, and with the help of your leg, advance and go forward, then shall you as soon as he hath advanced and gone a step forward, make him advance again, and so place the Ring about, and do the like at your second going about, which if he do in good order, you shall then cherish him, but not stand still, for in this lesson, horses will covet to stand & be slothful. When this is perfect, then make him advance, and go a step or two forward, three or four times together, increasing this lesson still by degrees, till through your daily labour & use, you bring your horse to that perfection, that as you couch your leg to his side, so will he advance, and as you thrust forward your legs, so will he follow with his hinder legs even together, beating the Ring with such advancements round about, both so oft, so large and so strait as yourself will, still keeping that time with his legs and body, that you do with your legs and hand. And this know, that the chiefest art and grace in horsemanship, is true time keeping.  
Note that in this lesson, if the Rider be discreet, and will take time and leisure with his Horse, there will happen no vice, unless it be such as are before specified in the former lessons, together with corrections due to the same. But if the Rider be an unskilful man, which will force his Horse to do that in a day, which should ask a fortnight's labour, then be you sure there will happen more mischiefs in this one lesson, then in all the other mentioned before, as restinesse, running away, writhing his head awry, checking at the bridle, and such like: the least of which will ask a Months work to reclaim them. And sith they come rather through the vnk●lfulnes of the man, then either the untowardness or bad disposition of the beast, I will here omit them, meaning to treat thereof in another place.  
Note that this turn, of all other turns is most beautiful, most gallant, and most assured and strong, both for man & Horse, it is most in use in service, especially in that manner of fight, which our English Soldiers term fight at the croope. Note, that if in this turn you find your Horse at any time slothful, or that he will leave before you would have him, that for such offence, you ●se the even stroke of both your spurs, and a little to check him in the mouth with your bridle hand, which is a present help: yet would I not have you use it oft, but at some special times, when other corrections fail.  
Here could I spend a great deal of waste paper, and more idle time, in telling you of sundry other turns, and in distinguishing of half turns from whole turns, & whole turns from double turns: here could I speak of the turn which Grison calleth Volta raddoppiata▪ also of that which he calleth Lacrambetta, and our English Riders Chambetta, and when I have done, conclude of nothing else but that which I have before set down, for why all cometh but to that end and perfection. Therefore sith they be so needless, I will let them pass, and come to those other lessons which are fit for a Horse to learn, and are found most necessary in service.  
Having your Horse perfect in what is before expressed, you shall then teach him to manage truly, just and well: I need not here to interpret unto you, the signification of this word manage, neither how needful a lesson it is in service, because both are sufficiently done, in another more absolute Author. Of manages there he three kinds, manage with half rest, manage with whole rest, manage without rest: for the two former kinds of manages, I find no reason why a man should bestow any particular labour to train his Horse only unto them, sith they be of no such use as the last is, neither do they carry the like grace that it doth. And for mine own part, sith I use them but as introductions or guides to the latter, and sith every Horse that can manage without rest, can manage either with half rest or whole rest, I will here conclude them all three in one, under the title of managing without rest.  
To make your Horse therefore to manage perfectly and well, you shall take this order: being come into some gravelled high way, of breadth sufficient for a large Ring, and long enough for a managing course, you shall first on your right hand pace out a Ring, containing the circuit of ten or twelve yards compass: having marked that out so as you may sufficiently discern it, pace then your Horse strait forward, some forty or fifty yards, and there on your left hand, mark out another Ring of like compass to the first, according to the manner and order of this figure following.  
In this sort exercise your Horse two or three days, after which time, I would have you when your horse hath trotted your Ring about, to put him into a gentle gallop, and to gallop down the strait furrow to the other Ring, where, upon your gallop make him stop and advance, and then troth the other Ring about, and to gallop back again, stopping, advancing, and trotting about the Ring. After he will do this perfectly, you shall then make him, having galloped down the furrow and made his stop and advancement, to gallop the Rings also, in which I would have you exercise him a week at the least.  
This weeks exercise, will bring your Horse to such perfectness, that he will do all this of himself, without any help of his Rider: that being perceived by you, you may then safely adventure to bring those your Rings into a more strait and narrow compass, according to the form of this figure following.  
Note, that in this lesson above all other, your Horse must use the least disorder with his head or body, but in it keep his rain most perfect and gallant: therefore during the time that your Horse doth manage, be sure to carry a more strong and sure hand then in any other lesson. Note that in managing you must keep as just time in your gallop as in your turn, and that the time you keep in each, be all one. Note that as in your turn you draw up you bridle hand, to make your horse stop, and ease it again to make him go forward in his turn, so in his gallop you must draw up your hand, to keep his head in his true place, and also ease it again to sweeten his mouth, and make him to ride with more pleasure, whereas if you hold your hand aways in one stay, you will not only dull and make dead his mouth, but also make him ride unpleasantly, and when you offer to stop him, make proffer to break away with you. Note that in this lesson, you carry your body strait & upright, your legs in their true place, your rod as it were your sword, on the right side of your head, and be careful that you use no uncomely motion, for any unséemelinesse in the man, is a disgrace to the Horses doing.  
When your Horse can make this manage, you may then if you please, make him manage in a larger sort, which is very comely, in this manner. Place out a Ring of five or six yards compass on your right hand, and then pacing down the furrow as is before said, mark out another on your left hand of the same compass, than put your Horse into a gentle gallop, and being come to your right hand Ring, there making a slight kind of stop and advancement, force your Horse to beat the Ring about, in such sort as I showed you before, where I tell you how to make your horse to beat a large turn loftily: helping him with the calves of your legs, your hand and your rod, then galloping down to your left Ring, do the like there. This kind of manage, though it be somewhat more painful than the other, yet if the Horse be of metal that doth it, it carrieth such a good grace, that to the standers by which shall behold it, it will be wonderful pleasing.  
Now when this is perfected, it resteth that you teach your Horse to pass a swift and strong career, which you shall do in this manner. Being come into some gravelled high way, the length of a good career, which should be measured according to the disposition of the Horse, yet sith it shall not be amiss to set down some certainty, I think six score yards a very fit career, as well for the heavy slug Horse, as also for the puissant and fine metaled beast: for as the one may run it without weariness, so the other may show in it his puissance and swiftness. Being come (as I said) into such a place, first pace your Horse twice or thrice about a small Ring, and then trot him forward six score yards, at the end whereof pace another Ring: and then setting your Horse's head strait down the way he came, make him stand still a good space, during which time, look that his body stand strait and firm, which when you have found it doth, then giving him your bridle hand, bending your body a little forward, and thrusting out both your legs with a good strength, force him suddenly with a good courage, to enter into a swift gallop, which with the even stroke of your spurs, increase, till he be at the very uttermost speed he can run, in which continue him, till he come to your first Ring, where, by drawing up your hand hard and firm, make him stop upon his buttocks, and then with the help of your legs, make him advance twice or thrice: then trot him about the Ring, and stand still a good space, cherishing him, and no more.  
Note that when you start your career, to make your Horse d●o it with greater life and courage, you may use the help of your voice, by crying how, or hay very loud. Note that when you start your career, it is not good to spur your Horse, for fear you make him yerk out behind, plunge, or use other disorder, which such violent corrections done suddenly, will bring a Horse unto. Note that the career would not be passed above once in a fortnight at the most, nor so oft neither, if your Horse be not come to his full growth.  
Thus much have I thought good to write as touching the instructing of Horses to matters of service, for more than I have before set down, is needless in service, and if he do any thing less, he is not fit to serve upon. Hear I could trouble you with a long discourse of other Rings and other manages, as namely the Caragolo, the manage resembled to the letter S. or that called Serpeggiare, with divers others: yet sith there is no Horse, but if he be perfect in what is before written, must of force do them at his pleasure, because there is no alteration of art, but only change of form, I mean here therefore to omit them, wishing those that are desirous to understand them, to look into Master Claudio Corte his works, a man peerless in the art of horsemanshippe, who of those matters hath written absolutely.  
Yet by the way note, that according as your Horse is of fashion, so must the cheek of your bit carry his proportion: if your Horse be in shape gross, that is, shortnecked, thick chauld, and hard mouthed, you shall then have the cheek of your bit, made upon three degrees, according to this figure following.  
The difference and nature of these two cheeks is this, the first, which standeth upon three degrees, bringeth in the musell of the Horse, and maketh him perforce rain well, that otherwise would thrust out his nose ill-favouredly: the reason whereof is, because it carrieth a greater compass than any other bit, insomuch that a Horse cannot rest upon it unless he draw in the neither part of his head: whereas the second that standeth but upon one degree, keepeth a Horse's head upright and aloft, neither doth it suffer him to thrust out his nose, but correcteth him if at any time he covet to put his head downward.  
A Horse that is short necked and narrow chaulde, reason telleth yo●, cannot couch his head in so good a place, as he that hath a long neck and a wide chaule: because always in a good rain, he must hide his thropell or weison within his chaule: therefore if you shall set him upon a bit, that doth not carry great compass in the cheek, as of three degrees at the least, you shall never place his head well, because the strait cheek will keep up his neck, and thrust out his nose, and he should have his neck forced to yield, and his nose kept in.  
So on the contrary sort, if to a Horse of large long forehand, you put a bit of much compass, you then bring down his neck and put out his nose, by reason of the compass of the cheek, which he cannot choose but follow, whereas he should have his neck kept up strait and stiff, and only his head brought down to answer it. Therefore as I said, bit your Horse according to his proportion. It shall be good that for a day or two, you let him stand upon his bit in the stable, to play & feel the kyrbe, than after, for other two or three days, you shall in your hand troth him abroad, making his Kyrbe somewhat strait, and raining him so as he may have a good feeling both of the bit and Kyrbe. After this, you shall take his back, and being well seated and having pausd awhile, take up your bit reins into your left hand, and hold them in this manner: Put your little finger and your ring-finger, between the two rains, and lay your thumb just upon the rains, opposite to your forefinger and great finger, the brawn of your thumb being turned toward your Saddle pommel: then take the left rain of your flying trench, & lay it under your thumb, carrying it somewhat more straighter than your bit ray●e. Then in your right hand in which you carry your rod, carry the right rain of your flying trench. In this manner pace forth your Horse, bearing him most-what upon your flying trench for three or four days, offering little or no labour, unless it be trotting forward, or pacing and trotting the Rings, and stopping, all which you must put him unto in gentle manner, for fear of distempering his head. And as you find him frame himself to his bit, so by little and little, let him feel it every day more than other, till such time that you find, he bo●● understandeth the bit, and hath his head well stayed thereon.  
Then may you every day exercise him in all the foresaid lessons, with all those helps and corrections ●efore mentioned, till you have him in that perfection, that without any other help save the offer of your hand, he will do what you shall require.  
Note, that the true place where the bit should lie in the Horse's mouth, is above the tusk of his neither chap: as for any other quillet or stratagem in horsemanshippe, which the curious are desirous to understand, I refer them to Master Blundevils book, which will instruct them sufficiently.  
Now, to come to those lessons which though they be needless in service, yet show they great art in the Rider, together with much strength, courage, and nimbleness in the Horse, and those I term lessons of pleasure, because they be more pleasing to the eye, then necessary for any use, and first of all to make your Horse bound aloft, you shall thus instruct him. Having him well stayed upon his Bit, that he is both certain of head and mouth, you shall trot him forth into some even sandy way, and having trotted him a dozen yards, you shall stop him, and upon his first or second advancement, give him the even stroke of your spurs, at which if he will not bound, strike him again the second time, if that prevail not, then trot him forward again, and do as you did before, continuing this manner of labour, till he leap with all his four legs from the ground, which so soon as he doth, immediately make much of him, and upon his first bound, let him be set up in the stable, that he may thereby be encouraged the next time, and the better understand what your will is. Then have him out the second day, and do as you did the first, and increase his leaps as you see him increase in understanding, till he be so perfect, that upon the offer of your spur, he will rise on all four.  
Note, that if he rise not so high with his hinder parts as with his foreparts, that then you accompany with the even stroke of your spurs, a good lash with your rod under his belly, and near unto his sheath or yard. Note that if in bounding he do not keep his ground, but presseth forward, and doth not fall where he riseth, that then so much as he presseth forward, so much you make him retire back, by beating him upon his fore knees, and then being in the former place, make him bound again.  
Note that when your Horse will bond aloft lustily and well, you shall make use of it thus. When you gallop your Horse before any assembly, as soon as you have made your stop and advanced, if then for a close you make him bound, it will be very comely. Also in your manage, if you make your turn only with bounds, it will be very seemly. When you beat a large turn, if for a close or ending, you make your Horse bound on all four, nothing can be more seemly, and then to stand still, thus much for bounding.  
Now for the Coruett, you shall do it thus: Ride your Horse down some descending ground, and having trotted two or three yards, stop him, and make him advance twice or thrice together: then put him forward half so far as before, and there make him advance three or four times together. In this manner make him go a step or two and advance, till of himself he will raise his hinder parts, and in steed of going forward, stand advancing both behind and before of an equal height. When he will do this well, then may you upon his third advancement, give him the even stroke of your spurs, to make him bound aloft, which manner of salt, our English Riders term the Gallop galliard.  
Another manner of leap there is, which we call the Capriole, or Goates-leape, it differeth nothing at all from the Coruett, but that your Horse in it must press more forward then in the Coruett, and raise his hinder parts a great deal higher. Therefore you shall teach your Horse to do it, as you taught him the Coruett, adding thereunto this one help more, that is, to turn your rod in your hand, so as the point thereof, may be just over the midst of your Horses buttocks, than set your hand fast to your side, and always, upon his advance, as you put him forward with your leg, so hit him upon the buttocks with your rod, which will force him to raise his hinder parts, observing to keep that time with your rod, that you keep with your hand and leg. And thus for the making of a Horse for service or pleasure, I have showed both my practice and experience.   

CHAP. 3.  
How to choose a Horse for Hunting, how to train him thereunto: and also how to diet him, having made some great match or wager.  
AS hitherto I have showed my experience in the training, and bringing to perfection great Horses, meet either for service in the wars, or the pleasures of great Princes, so here I will declare, (since not any else hath undertaken the like Treatise) my knowledge in the dieting and ordering of those Horses, which we term Hunting Horses, because the pleasure we enjoy by them, is in the following of Hounds: an art every way equal with the former, and as necessary in some kind of services in the war, (especially upon desperate exploits to be done suddenly, or upon occurrents or discoveries, or any other kind of service, wherein either the toughness, or swiftness of a Horse is to be tried,) as the former. Yet sith the former hath been always of higher price, and more searched into, and sith what Horse soever is perfect upon his bit, and can well perform all those lessons mentioned in the former Chapter, must of force be perfect upon his Snaffle, and if his Master so please, be after made a Hunting-horse: where contrariwise, if a Horse be from his beginning trained to a continual lose kind of gallop, as Hunting-horses are, he will ask great labour and art to be set upon a Bit, & made proud and gallant.  
I will therefore, not make them two arts, but one, making this latter, an apendex to the former, concluding him (in my foolish judgement) not an absolute horseman, which hath not understanding in them both: for if he have art to make his Horse proud of gate and countenance, and so nimble, light, and deliver, that with his round turns and acquaint salts, he amazeth the ignorant beholders, yet wanteth art so to diet him, that he need not fear either melting his grease, breaking his wind, or foundering him, all which are done instantly if he be unclean, without any show of extremity, what availeth his former skill? Or if he have art so to diet his Horse, that if he be ridden whilst he is able to set one foot before another, if he have all the grease melted within his body, if he be in that extremity, that some suppose he cannot possibly live an hour, yet within two or three hours after, be so fresh and courageous, as if he had never been laboured, if he have this art, I say, yet want art, to make his Horse have either fair countenance, comely gate, or any agility or nimbleness with his body: insomuch, that the most honourable & puissant beast in the world, is made to show like the most dull & unseemly creature, what availeth his art in dieting.  
Some will say (yet but the ignorant) that the training and dieting of these which I term Hunting-horses, is the only marring and spoil of good Horses: Fie, say they, this extreme chase and riding of them, makes them lame and unsound, and this curious dieting them, makes them so tender, nesh, and sickly, that they be good for nothing. Imitating herein a Philosopher, who seeing a Gentleman extremely troubled with the Toothache, caused all his own teeth to be drawn out, for fear in after time he should feel the like pain, saying all men were subject to that disease: so they, having seen some one lame old hunting Horse, presently conclude all are subject to the like infirmity, therefore not necessary any should hunt.  
For mine own part, extreme riding I as much disallow as any man: yet in great wagers, where the horses value is far exceeded, I see no reason but (for trial) they may well be put to extremity, and if they be well dieted and cunningly ridden, not one hair worse afterward, although I wish such extremity, should be as much forborn as may be. For this slander of lameness raised upon Hunting-horses, I thus confute it, that there be some, and many Hunting-horses lame I not deny, yet for every such one lame Horse, I will find twenty more lame, that never knew what hunting meant, so that Hunting-horses be not only lame.  
Again, it is well known, especially to those that have skill, that Hunting-horses are never lamed through their immoderate riding or labour, if they have a good Keeper: but now and then through greediness of sport, and over hastiness when they overreach and fall, they many times chance upon a strain, by which they halt a little, or otherwise in a leap or slip, may happen mischief, which is very seldom, or rarely seen. Where, on the contrary part, who is so simple that he knoweth not, if a Horse be kept in the stable and want exercise, his hoouses will straighten, his sinews dry up, and he prove lame uncurable? Who knoweth not that travailing in the high way, will beat a Horse, make him put out windgalles, and lame him certainly. What travailing Horse is he that will not stumble, and if he stumble, he may fall, and if he fall, why not consequently prove lame as well as a hunting Horse?  
Your great Horses which are for service, whom to train & bring to perfection, every one almost of any gentlemanly disposition, will endeavour himself unto: Why those I say are as subject to lameness as any Hunting-horse whatsoever, for there is never a turn you set, if it be artificial, but it strains your Horses back & hinder loins, as much as a Hunting-horse straineth himself in running over a furlong of the deepest earth. Sith then all Horses are as subject to infirmity as Hunting-horses, why not then the Hunting-horse as tolerable as any other Horse.  
Now for this unworthy blame they impute to the dieting of Horses, you shall see how grossly their ignorance makes them conjecture, first they shall see in the sequel, that there is no meat, drink, or any other thing whatsoever, appointed for a Hunting-horse, but it shall by good & sufficient reasons, be proved most excellent, and most healthful for the Horse, then consequently it must be tolerable. Some will say this dieting is but newly come up, and that men, whose nature is to be greedy of novelties, being newfangled, are enamoured with this vain toy. Their forefathers never knew what the dieting of Hunting-horses meant, yet they had good Horses. As though former blindness should banish ensuing knowledge. Or because Adam and Eve, (who were the Parents of all Parents) were naked (save for Fig leaves,) therefore we should refuse to wear clothing: this were wonderful absurd. There is no art, but the more a man wadeth into it, the more substantial and intricate he shall find it, and be forced to cry with Aristotle, o ens ensium miserere mei, the depth and end of art is unsearchable.  
Now that all men may be the more willing to endeavour themselves to have insight in this art of dieting, behold what profit ensueth thereby. First, there is no disease nor infirmity in a Horse, especially within his head or body, which be secret and unseen, and therefore most dangerous and mortal, but a man skilful in this art shall both discern it before it come to extremity, and also recure it.  
This maketh a Horse long wound, tough, hard, and stout, insomuch that a poor Nag of six or seven pound price, well trained and dieted, will not only tire, but also kill outright, a Courser worth a hundred pound, if he be fat and foul fed: whereas if such a Courser were in good diet, he would tire twenty such Nags. Some peradventure will allow of dieting, but dislike the sport of hunting, for look what contrarieties are in men's faces, the like may be in their fancies: therefore I say it is not necessary, that Hunting-horses only be dieted, but other Horses as well: yet must they have extraordinary riding, because in dieting, exercise is as needful as meat. But for such as neither love hunting, nor have occasion to ride further than from market to market, they may set their Horse to a bottle of hay, and give him pease pulse. The reason why men use their dieted Horses to the hunting of the Hair, is because it is a swift chase, and a continuing sport: yet not without some stops and stays, in which a horse may take wind, and revive himself again, which those from whom I learn mine experience, term defaults in the dogs, and sobs for their Horse.  
Moreover, the cry of the dogs, is as pleasant to the horse as the man, and addeth to him both a courage to run, and a willingness to continue his labour: whereas to gallop a Horse up and down the field after nothing, makes him weary of his labour, and willing to give over ere he have in a manner done any thing. Thus much in defence of this art which the ignorant condemn, and now to my purpose.  
When you make choice of a horse to train to hunting, as near as you can, let him have these properties, shapes, and virtues. First for his inward part, which is his mind, disposition, and metal, let him be of nature gentle, loving, and familiar to the man. Let him not be disposed to dogged sullenness, to strike or to bite: let him be of quick & lively metal, but not hot nor fiery, for they be never good, then for his outward shapes, thus if it may. Of colloures these be the best, Brown daple bays, Bright bays, Daple gray's, or White lyards, or blacks, so he have either white rache, white star, or white foot. His head if it be somewhat big, but not monstrous, so the chaule be thin and wide, it is the better. A small prick ear, or if it be long and stand upright like a Fox, it is a good token of metal and toughness.  
His forehead would be broad, having as it were a rising bunch in the midst like a Hare: for to be plain smooth faced, which we term Marefaced, is ill-favoured, and a sign of no enduring spirit. His eye would be large and bright: his nostrils very wide, for that is a token of long wind. If he be bearded all under his chaps like a Goat, it is passing good, for that is a sign of great swiftness and goodness. In general, all his head would be lean, for if it be full and fat, doubtless the horse is dull and unsprity. His thropell or windpipe, would be big to a man's feeling, and strait to his eye, for it when he raineth, it have a bent like a bow, which we call Cock-thropled, it is very ill, and a sign of great straightness of wind. For his limbs in general, they would be big, clean, flat, strait, and very short betwixt joint and joint, especially between the pastern & the hoof, for if he be long in that part, he must of force be weak there, and if he be weak footed, he cannot possibly endure any wet earth, yet some that be a little sickle hoght, prove very good. His body would be round and large, and his ribs would stand a little outward. In brief, the longer your horse is from the ear to the stern of his tail, the better it is, so that his chiefest length consist not in his chine, but in his hinder ●oynes, depth of forehand, and length of neck: for otherwise, to be long backed, is a sign of weakness.  
When you have gotten a Horse as near as yo● can to these shapes, look that before you train him to hunting, he be at the least past four years old, and going on his sift, and that he be well weighed, and lightly travailed. This done, you shall thus train and diet him: Having taken him from graff at Bartholomew-tide or there about, (for then the pride and strength of grass is gone, and the flesh they get after, is but unsound and nought, being exceeding fat, as a Horse that is sound must needs be having ●un all S●●mer,) take him and set him up in your stable, which stable must be made close and dark, yet with such windows and lights as at your pleasure you may let in the fresh air, and make it so cool and warm as you please: the reason why it should be close and dark, is, that when your Horse hath endured a days labour or hunting, being set in a close stable, as soon as he hath filled his belly, he will lie down and take his rest, as well on the day as night, which is as wholesome as any meat he can eat: where if the stable he open and lightsome, unless he be an old beaten horse, 〈◊〉 will not lie down.  
Let the plaunchers of your stable, be laid even and level, not as many do, higher before than behind, which maketh that your Horses can never stand at ease, but resting altogether upon their hinder legs, prove often lame behind. Neither can they lie but at much pain, which causeth them seldom to take rest. Let the ground & your planchers be of an equal height, that if your horse at any time go backward off your plaunchers, yet that he may stand equally both before and behind. Let your Manger be made close, with boards only, and not lined within with either lime or plaster, for the smell of lime is suffocating and unwholesome, and plaster will yield great store of dust, which is more unhealthful. Let there be no mud wall within your stable, that your Horse may reach unto with his mouth, for by nature they will covet to gnaw an eat them down, and nothing can be worse for a Horse. Having set your horse (being very fat and new taken from the grass) in such a stable, lay your hand upon his side near to his short ribs, and there you shall feel his fatness, which will be under your hand very soft and tender: which when you feel, be you well assured all that fat is nought, for being so lose and soft, the smallest travail that may be will melt it, and then being melted before it be hardened by good diet, the outward fat falleth into the horses legs, & maketh him have swollen legs, and lame never to be cured, which secret but few at this day understand: and the inward fat which is within his stomach, bag and guts, putrefies, and breeds those diseases which kill the horse outright, though it be half a year, or perhaps three quarters of a year after. Insomuch that the owner, who hath neither skill to discern such a chance when it is happened, nor art to give him any medicine to purge him of that gross matter, saith he died suddenly he knoweth not of what, when himself long before, had willingly given him his death, which mischief to avoid, you shall use this mean.  
First for two or three days, you shall let your horse stand in the stable unclothed, and give him nothing but Wheate-straw and water, twice a day, morning and evening, being led thereunto in his keepers hand, till you see his dung (which at the first will be a dark black green) be clean changed to a palish yellow: then may you (not having before laid any cury comb on him, but only rubbeth him morning and evening with a hard wisp) both curry him, rub him, pick him, and dress him, and also clothe him in a single cloth made of sackcloth, and let the surcingle be stopped round about with big soft wisps, as well for warmth as ease of the horse.  
This shall you do every morning very early, as by six of the clock, than put a small snaffle in his mouth, and lighting upon his back, walk him a fair footpace to some fair River or rundle, being at least half a mile, and there water him, and so walk him home again, and set him up▪ that done, take a quarter of a peck of Oats, and sift and dust them well in a small siue, and then sweeping the Manger clean, give them him, than put a sheaf of wheat straw well threshed into the Rack, and putting down his litter under him, let him stand so till one of the clock in the after noon, at one of the clock in the after noon come to him, and turn up his cloth, and with a hard wisp, rub down his neck, face, buttocks and legs, then sift him two or three handfuls of Oats more, and so turning down his cloth, let him stand till three a clock, at which time come to him, and first put away his dung, then shake up his litter, and after you have unclothed him, curry him and dress him in this sort.  
First, after you have curried him all over with your cury comb, which raiseth up the dust, then shall you with some dead horse tail nailed to a stick, dust him, and strike away that which the cury comb hath raised: then take a wisp of straw writhe hard together, and with it rub him clean over, especially his legs, which the more they be chafed, the better and more nimble will the horse be, then take a haircloth, and with it rub him over, for that will cleanse away the dust, and keep his coat smooth & clean. Then wet your hands, but not too much, and with them so wet, rub him all over, especially his face, which must chiefly be kept clean: this rubbing him with your wet hands, will leave upon him never a lose hair, nor any other filthy thing.  
Then with a clean cloth that is not dusty nor foul, though it be course, cleanse him all over, for it will make his coat shine, insomuch that you shall almost discern your face therein: then look about his eyes and if you see any great hairs growing about them, either above or beneath, as all horses have, pull them away, for they be perilous for a horses sight. Then take out his yard, which of itself will gather much dirt and filthiness, and with your hand cleanse it, than comb down with a wet main comb, his main and tail, and so cloth him up and stop him round, then as you did before, take his back, and upon a gentle footpace, walk him forth to his water, and bring him home again, giving him two or three handfuls of well sifted Oats, then if he have no wheat straw in his rack, put him a little in, and then throwing down his litter, let him so stand till it be eight a clock at night, at which time come to him, and after you have turned up his cloth, rubd him, and chafed his legs, give him a handful or two of Oats, and a fresh sheaf of Wheat straw into his Rack, and more new litter, and so let him rest till the next morning.  
In this sort keep him for the space of three weeks or a month, only with Wheate-straw and Oats, putting him to no further travail than the fetching of his Water, in which space, you shall see his belly will be clean taken up, and he will show himself comely and gaunt, and you shall feel his fatness more firm, hard, and sad than it was before at his first taking up: which always the harder it is, in the better case is your Horse. Now, if your Horse be such a gross f●●ding beast, that his fatness and pursinesse, rather increaseth with this manner of keeping, than aught at all deminisheth, as some Horses, who will feed as sore upon straw, as if they had Hay and provender, which we call Kettie Horses: or if you have made promise for any match, so that you cannot well stay to take such long time as in truth you should, or as art would require, then to inseame your Horse the sooner, you shall use during this first month, for to ride out your Horse every night, two hours after Sun set, & abide abroad with him three hours at the least, not exceeding footpace, which we call night air.  
And if this be done alongst some River side, it is the best, because the sharp air which cometh from the waters, is cold and piercing, and never a one of these evenings, but takes as much of a Horse as if he had endured a days hunting: wherefore I admonish all Keepers, not to air their Horses in the night, but with great discretion, because it brings low, and weakens a Horse very much. When you have aired your Horse thus and brought him in, let his legs be well chafed and ●ubd down, and then give him his Oats, and so let him rest till morning, not forgetting but always when you have brought in your Horse, to pick his foreféetes clean, lest any pebble stones or gravel should be got within the shoe, or worn into the hoof.  
After you have spent your first month thus, only in taking up his belly, and hardening his flesh, then shall you begin to cleanse him in this sort. In stead of Wheate-straw which before you gave him, you shall give him Hay, and the courser such hay is, the better it is (so it be sweet and well gotten) for the horse will not feed on it to grossly as otherwise he would: and a Horse will many time upon very sweet and fine Hay, eat so much that he will break his wind. Having thus changed his straw to Hay, you shall then add unto his Oats, Bread, which bread shall be thus made.  
Take a strike of beans, two pecks of Wheat, and one peck of Rye, grind these together, sift them and knead them, with water and Barm, and so bake them thoroughly in great loaves, as a peck in a loaf: and after they are a day old at the least, your Horse may feed on them, but not before. Some peradventure, that neither love this sport of hunting, nor make any care of a good Horse, will imagine this Bread for too costly, and say that common Baker's Horse bread, ● which is made of nought but B●●nne and Wheat chy●●ell, shall do as much good ● but if they did know how many inconveniences is found by this common Horsebreade, they would (without doubt) altar their opinions.  
First, the substance whereof it is made, is but bran or chisel, and this bran is nothing but the outmost shalt or husk of the Corn, the meal and strength whereof is taken away: now when the virtue is bereft, what remains but a dry haske thing, without either nutriment or spirit? And what can that I pray you prevail with a horse that must endure extreme labour? Then they knead it with nothing but cold water, which makes it so heavy and sad, that it lies in the stomach of a Horse, and neither turns to good blood, nor any other nutriment, but only to putrefaction, and gross humours, which commonly come to the Anticor, consumption of the lungs, painein the liver, the yellows, and divers other such like diseases, all which be mortal.  
Again, Bran is extreme hot and dry, therefore the horse that shall much feed thereon, it will inflame his blood, scaled his stomach, and breed in him many filthy diseases: as the scab, itch, or farcin and such like. Some again will ask me, sith I disallow this common Bread, why in the other bread I bid them take Beans, & not Pease? My answer is, because Beans are a more strong and clean food than Pease, and less purssie, and the meal they make, is a great deal finer.  
If they demand why I put in the Wheat, my answer is, because it is comfortable and full of spirit, it breedeth in a Horse lust, courage and liveliness. If for what purpose the Rye, then for this, because the two former grains be of great strength, and altogether binding, therefore I put in the Rye, which is altogether loosening and scouring, that being joined with the former, it keepeth the Horse cool and in good temper in his body. Now why I knead it with Barm, that is to make the bread light and fine, that it may be easy of digestion, and not lie too long in the Horse's stomach.  
Having such bread as this, and having taken away your Wheat straw, you shall then alter your Horse's exercise in this manner. Early in the morning, by five or six a clock, after your Horse is dressed and trymd, sift three or four handfuls of Oats clean, and give them him, which so soon as he hath eaten, then immediately bridle him up and tie him to the bare Rack, then saddle him, and after he is saddled, throw his cloth over him, & so let him stand till the Hounds be ready to go forth a hunting, at which time take his back, but in any case no spurs on your heels, but only a switching rod, and so go forth with them, and spend that day in hunting, till three or four of the clock in the evening, provided always that you gallop him not but only thwart and cross, from Hill to Hill, to make in with the ●ogges, exceeding not his trot at any time: and this order see you daily observe for a fortnight at the least.  
● When you have thus spent the day and are come home, see that there be ready in your stable fresh litter enough, them set him up, and tie him in his bridle to the bare Rack, and all to rub and chafe him, insomuch that if he be either wet with sweat or any other thing, you leave him not till he be as dry as may be, than unsaddle him, rub his back thoroughly, & with all hast cloth him up warm, and stop him round with hard wisps: then pick his feet clean and chafe his legs, and so let him stand on his bridle a quarter of an hour, after which time come to him and give him a handful of Oats, & half so much Hempeséede mingled together.  
This Hempseed, is the most gentlest and easiest scouring that can be given to a Horse, the virtue whereof is this. If in the days hunting you have either dissolved any gross humours in the Horse, (as labour will always do) or melted any of his grease, it will cleanse and bring it away from the Horse, as you shall perceive the next morning by his dung, which you should always regard, and look unto very much, for it will be greasy and full of slimy matter.  
Having thus given him Oats and Hempseede, bridle him again, and let him so stand half an hour, or an hour. After which time unbridle him, and put into his Rack a little bottle of Hay, like a halfpenny bottle in an Inn, and let him for an hour or there about, eat his Hay, then give him such a quantity of Bread as you in discretion shall think fit: neither so much as you may cloy him and make him refuse it, nor so extreme little that you ease his hunger nothing at all.  
Then let him stand having Hay in his Rack, till nine of the clock at night, at which time come to him, and rub him well all over, then having fair water in the house, water him: then sift him four or five handfuls of Oats, and mingle with them a good quantity of Bread, and give it him. Then shaking his litter about him, leave him for that night.  
As soon as you come to him the next morning very early to dress him, the first thing you do look what dung he hath made, if it be greasy, dark coloured, and foul, than it is a sign the Horse is foul within, full of glut and purssinesse: if it be well coloured, that is to say of a pale yellow having no grease in it, then is it a sign that your former days hunting did take nothing at all of him, but that his grease remaineth in his body unwasted: wherefore the next day you may take the more of him, yet not so much that you force him to gallop.  
The second thing you look unto, must be whether he have left any provender in the Manger uneaten or no, if he have left any, then shall you sweep it away and bridle him up, giving him no meat at all till night that he come from hunting, for that days gentle exercise and fast, will get him a stomach, and make him eat his meat with lust and greediness.  
If he have eaten all clean and left no provender, then shall you give him three or four handfuls of Oats, or else some Bread, (whether of them you please,) to eat whilst you are dressing him.  
Lastly, look in the Rack what Hay he hath left, if he have left neither Hay nor provender, than the next night give him the same quantity of Hay, but a good deal more provender, for it is a sign he had not before half enough. If he have eaten up all his Hay yet left his provender uneaten, (which is commonly the property of a great feeding Horse,) then the next night give him but half of much hay, and the same quantity of provender as before, that not having hay enough to fill his belly, he may be forced to eat his provender or else fast: which if he do one night or two, be sure he will not the third.  
Then dress him, saddle him, and have him abroad, using him in all points according to the manner aforesaid. Provided always by the way, that during the time of this fortnight, you may every morning, either before you go out, or as you go, water your Horse, so that you suffer him not to drink full so much as he would desire. Having spent this fortnight thus, the next fortnight following, you shall adventure to gallop him a little after the dogs: but in any wise no mean out right chase, but gently now and then for twenty or forty score, and no more without a sob, and let it be upon an overthwart ground, I mean ploughed lands, or lay lands hie ridged.  
Moreover, let him gallop so softly and leysurel●e as you can possibly make him, first that he may thereby learn how to use his legs and body nimbly, secondly, that he may strike his furrow clean without stumbling, and lastly, that he may have knowledge and understanding of hi● own faults if he chance to commit any, and thereby seek to amend them.  
For any fault whatsoever he chanceth to commit in galloping upon a deep earth, in any wise you must not spur him, for if you do, you shall utterly spoil him for ever being good hunter, the reason here of is this: ● young Horse that hath never been used to gallop on deeps, will at the first be rash and hasty, and put himself forth more fiercely than he can possible continue, then waxing a little weak, he will snapper and stumble, or else ware slothful, for any of which faults if you spur him, he will then through terror of the correction rush so hastily forward without regard, that neither understanding his error, nor knowing how to amend it, he will increase it: and so where he would stumble but once, peradventure stumble 3. times. Whereas if you have no spurs to torment him with, but that he may take his own leisure, and when he stumbleth, both see the occasion, and feel the pain thereof, which is twice so sore to him as to the man, and far more loath is the Horse to fall then the man to have him, he will become so cunning, that the deep earth and the plain meadows will be all one to him: nay, in that he findeth his Rider will let him take leisure and time thereon, he will rather covet the deep than the plain, and for a surety, cunning prevaileth far more than speed on a deep earth.  
As for his diet this fortnight, let it be in all things like the former fortnight: both the same meat, the same scouring, and the same times duly observed. Now after these two fortnight's are thus passed, which with the former month makes just too months, you shall then perceiving your horse to be still fat and foul, which you shall understand both by the thickness of his rib, by the grossness of his leske or flank, (which will be full and thick in your hand) and also by his chaule, which you shall feel both fat and full of little knots at the root of his tongue which stoppeth his wind, put him to greater extremity: that is to say, you shall then hunt more sound, following the dogs at the heels, yet with such discretion, that you put not your Horse to above a thrée-quarters speed, for fear you over-toyle him, or make him give over before he knoweth what he doth.  
The first day you hunt him in this sort, (through which extraordinary toil he cannot choose but sweat much outwardly, which wasteth his outward grease, and by his inward heat, dissolve the glut and filth which cloyeth his guts and stomach) being come home, and having set him up in the stable, let him be exceedingly rubbed, chafed and made dry, then if you give him no scouring that night, it shall not matter, but the next morning so soon as the Sun is up, having kept your Horse fasting an hour, then give him this scouring.  
Take Rosemary and let it be chopped very small, then take a dish of sweet Butter, and work the Rosemary and it well together, then make good round pellets thereof and put them into your Horse's mouth, and make him swallow them: so done put on his bridle, and being well clothed an● stopped round, both with his own cloth and a single blanket, take his back and walk him forth into some close or field, for half an hour or little more: then bring him in and tie him up, and you shall perceive within an hour after or thereabouts, he will grow to be exceedingly sick, but have you no fear at all, for it is an excellent sign. When you see him so sick, be sure to have a warm Mashe ready, made with water and Wheate-meale, malt, or Bran, no more than shall colour the water, & give it him to drink. As soon as he hath drunk, give him Hay into his rack, and so let him stand all that day and night, being sure that you provender him sound both with bread and Oats.  
This kind of scouring, though there be a number of other scourings which hereafter I will set you down, yet I have always found it of most virtue and profit. It purgeth the Horse of all manner of glut, foulness and bad umors.  
If his grease have been melted a month before, it will bring it away in his dung in great abundance, to the admiration of those which hath not seen the like before, whereas if it should remain, it were either certain death, or if nature were so strong to expel it, it would break out into some filthy disease. The next day after this scouring thus given, take your Horse forth on hunting, yet in any wise neither put him to gallop nor any strain, but only trot him after the dogs that he may take the air, get him a stomach, and recover such lust & courage, that look what you did that day you put him to extremity, he will do twice so much the next time you shall thereunto constrain him.  
In this sort twice a fortnight, for two fortnight's together, would I have you hunt your Horse thoroughly after the dogs, leaving no chase unrunne, and then resting him a day after, use him according to the manner aforesaid: and the other days let him but play and sport himself after the dogs, as well to acquaint him with the sport, as to increase his wind and keep him in breath. Some will demand, since I would have a horse thus heated after the dogs thrice in a fortnight, why it may not as well be done without dogs in some plain meadow, Moor, or Field, where a man may gallop him till he sweat, as much or as little as one would?  
I answer, it is not so good for divers respects: first, when a Horse is heated after the dogs, he hath choice of many earths to run upon, one while he gallops upon deep ploughed lands, another while upon plain Pastures or Meadows, one while upon lay lands that have high ridges and deep furrows, another while upon beaten hye-ways or common tracts: which change of earth, brings a Horse to cunning speed, nimbleness, and toughness.  
Secondly, the heat a Horse taketh after the dogs, he taketh kindly and in good sort, for if the dogs run a mile, without default, stop, stay, or double, it is very much: nay, you shall have them in twelve score, six score, and less, make stops and defaults, all which give unto your horse new breath, strength and courage, so that he will be more willing to run, than you will be to have him: whereas if you should give him his heat all in a main chase, it would be both wearisome, painful, and unwholesome to the Horse, for sudden heats are always perilous, and in stead of encouraging your horse to take pleasure in his gallop and to increase in toughness, you shall discourage him, and make him faint and tire: and peradventure unless he be very clean, hazard the breaking of his wind.  
Thirdly, the cry of the dogs is pleasant unto the horse, and he will of himself covet to follow them being in full cry. And lastly, the seeing of other Horses to scope and gallop with him, will be an encouragement, and an increasing of your Horse's willingness. Now by that time this third Month is thus spent, your horse will be clean in his body, well wound, and in good strength, so that you shall both have an insight what he is able to perform, and also adjudge rightly of his truth, which when you are acertaind of, than you may according as your fancy & discretion serves you, either hunt him privately, or match him for some great wager publicly.  
If you do match him for any great wager, and thereby do overmatch him, though no body can be blamed but your own folly or fortune, yet since there be many helps in matching which may much avail, I will as near as I can, briefly set them down. First understand, it is not good to let your horse ride any match till he be passed 6. years old, and full 7. for till than he cometh not to his full strength, growth and perfection. Secondly note, that according as your horse's disposition is, so make your match, or else wilfully be a loser: wherefore if you find him dead slow, that is of little speed, yet wonderful true & tough, then make your match to follow the dogs so long as you can, as till 3. or 4. of the clock, that in that space you may with earnest riding, and having good triers to keep your adversary within his law, which commonly is a horse length or two, or as you agree, so foil the horse that rides against you, that when you come to run the Wild-goose chase, you may have as much speed as he, which if you perceive and know your Horse to be true, if then you lose, impute the fault either to bad riding, or to a false judgement in your horse's disposition.  
Also in this match, get your law in the Wild-goose chase, which is most usually twelve score to be twenty score, that if your adversary chance to have more speed than you, yet with your truth and toughness, you may recover him: for that Horse that lets another overrun him twenty score at the first in a wild-goose chase, it is pity he should ever be hunter.  
If you find your Horse to be wonderful errand swift, yet not so tough that he will endure to toil out a days work with extremity, then would I advise you, not to make your match to hunt the Hare after the dogs, but rather to run train scents made with a Cat, in which strong scent a dog will seldom be at default, and the longer you conclude such trains, to be the better for you. Also the shorter law you make for the winning or losing the match, the better hope you shall have of winning, and withal, see you conclude to have the leading of the first train, all which when you have agreed upon, then choosing such earth as your Horse may show his speed upon, and having the swiftest and best scented dogs you can get, giving them as much space before you as you can, try if you can win the match with a wind, of which if you fail, then is your match in great doubt, if your adversary be tough.  
Wherefore seeing that your speed fails, then loiter after, and keep your Horse as fresh as you can, that coming to the Wild-goose chase, taking the leading, see if with slips and turns you can foil him that rides against you. In which slips, the cunning of the Horseman must as much avail as the goodness of the horse: and for that those slips show both a ready Horse, and an artificial Rider, I will teach you here how to do them.  
The Wild-goose chase being started, in which the hindmost Horse is bound to follow the foremost, and you having the leading, hold a hard hand of your Horse, and make him gallop softly at great ease, insomuch, that perceiving your adversary strive to take the leading from you, suffer him to come so near you, that his Horse's head may well nigh touch your Horse's buttock, which when you see, clap your left spur in your horse's side, and wheel him suddenly half about on your right hand, and then take him up again, till such time that he be come to you again: thus may you do of either hand which you will, and in never a one of these turns, but you shall throw him that rides against you, at least twenty or thirty yards behind you, so that whilst you ride at your ease, he shall be forced continually to come up to you upon the spur●es, which must weary the best Horse in the world.  
If your Horse be both swift and tough, yet thick wound, that is that he cannot run long with a wind, but if he want stays or sobs, that he will faint and yield, than your best play is, utterly to refuse the Wild-goose chase, and only to make your trial after the dogs, though such trials be the longer in making. These necessary helps in matching being duly considered, and having made your match with good discretion, providing always to have a month for the keeping of your Horse, you shall then thus order and diet him.  
First, beholding your horse to be lusty and full of life, having a cheerful countenance, willing to play in your hand, and perceiving by your former labour, that he is in reasonable case for ordinary hunting, yet not so very pur● and clean as he should be for a match, for the least imperfection that may be in his body, is the loss of the wager, and for a man to keep him in the temper all the year, were but too costly, and to little purpose, sith a man may always in a months space, (if he be any thing clean) make him fit for a match: then for the first week, feed him most what upon that bread before prescribed, and let him have Oats but now and then for change of meat, yet let him have such store of them both, that he may always have the one or the other lying in the Manger before him. If having fed him in the morning, you find any at noon, sweep it away, and give it to some other Horse, and give him fresh, so likewise do either at evening or night, or at other times. For this first week and the second, look that you hunt your Horse very sore, and give him strong scourings: of which scourings, sith there be divers of sundry natures and operations, I will before I go any further, set them down together with their virtues, wishing you to apply them thereafter, least in mistaking of them as many do, you rather hurt then profit your Horse.  
Therefore first, as touching these two scourings before mentioned, the one of Hempséede, the other Rosemary and butter. These two are of all the easiest, for they search nothing of themselves, but only purge away such matter as is before dissolved. As they purge the body, so they perfume the head, open the pipes, and make clear passage for wind, therefore they be the best for fat horses.  
There is another, which is Garlic stamped and leapt in rolls of Butter, and so given to the Horse: this scouring only purgeth the head, breaketh phlegm, and preserves a Horse from any disease that cometh of cold: therefore it is to be given to a Horse that is either thick wound, or subject to take cold. Butter and Saunders mingled together and made in pellets, is of the same virtue that this is, and worketh the same effect, only it is of more strength and force. Then is there Salad oil and Milk mingled together, and so lukewarm to be given to a Horse, this purgeth the stomach & entrails of all gross matter, and molten grease, therefore it is good for a fat horse. Also some use to give this scouring to a Horse that is new taken from grass, as soon as he is brought into the house. Also there is salad-oil and muscadine to be given together, this is of the same virtue that salad-oil and Milk is, save that it is somewhat more comfortable, for as it purgeth, so it strengtheneth, therefore it is to be given to a sick and weak Horse.  
If you give a whore Musterdséede in his provender, it is very good, for though it cleanseth the stomach little or nothing, yet it purgeth the head exceedingly: therefore to be used to the same Horses you use Butter and Garlic.  
Lastly, and the chiefest scouring of all, is this. Take the leaves of Box, and dry them at the fire till you may crush them in pieces, then mingle with them Brimstone beaten to powder, and give it your Horse in his provender, yet very discreetly, as by little and little at once, lest your Horse take a loath at it, and so refuse it. This purgeth the head, stomach and entrails, of all manner of filthiness, leaving nothing that is unsound or unclean: it cureth the cold, it killeth the worms, grubbes, or bots in a Horse, and it never abateth, but increaseth courage & flesh. Therefore it is to be given either to foul Horse or clean Horse, but chiefly to the clean Horse, because it will preserve him from any foulness.  
Thus have I set you down sundry scourings, with their natures, use them accordingly, and you shall perceive their virtues. A fortnight of your months keeping being spent in sound hunting, as is aforesaid, in which I would wish you to have a certain knowledge of your Horse's goodness, and having used such scourings as you find to be fittest for the state of your Horse's body, which when you perceive to leave their working, and that there comes nothing from your Horse but clean excraments, without grease or filthiness, then may you be certain and well assured, that your Horse is clean within, sound, and without any manner of imperfection, either of wind or disease.  
Then shall you the second fortnight, endeavour to continue the aforesaid cleanness: and to augment his strength, courage, and ability, you shall for this fortnight, make him Bread in this manner. Take of Beans a strike, of Oatmeal two pecks, of Wheat two pecks, and of Rye two pecks.  
All these being ground together and finely sifted, let it be knoden with new Ale, the Barm and all being beaten together in the fat. If you put the whites of Eggs into it, it will be the better, and the more wholesome for the horses wind. These being well knoden together, let them for an hour or there about, lie in the kneading tub, that it may have time to swell: then let it be wrought up and baked in great loaves.  
With this Bread and with Oats, see that you feed your Horse extremely, even so much as he will eat. As for his exercise let it be thus: four or five times in a week, let him go forth on hunting, yet in any case let him not gallop, especially to strain himself above twice a week at the most. If he be such a kettie horse that you perceive he feedeth too fast, and that you fear he will were pursy, then may you once or twice a week, about four a clock in the evening, after you have trotted after the Hounds all day, sending your Hounds home, break into a main chase with your Horse, and so give him a good sound sweat, which so soon as you have given, then taking him up both in good lust and courage, walk him softly up and down, sometimes trotting, sometimes racking, till you have cooled him well, and then carry him home and set him up in the stable.  
In this wise exercise your Horse till it be within three days of your match, during which three days, let your Horse take his rest, save that you may if you will, walk him forth to get him a stomach if it fail him, as it is likely it will: because for those three days, you must night and day watch with him, making him to eat all the meat he eats, out of your hand. And when he hath eaten a little, offer him a little dish full of water to drink, and then give him more bread●, then offer him more water, and in this manner feed him till he be full. Then let him take his rest and lie down, and always when he riseth do the like, and in this sort feed him till his match day: provided always that you let him have Hay in his Rack, and let him be led to the Field, bequeathing the rest to God, and good fortune.   

CHAP. 4.  
The secrets and art of training, and dieting the Horse for a course: which we commonly call running Horses.  
THE difference between the Hunting-horse before mentioned, and the Horse for a course is great, therefore the art of more esteem, and the secrets more worthy disclosing. The first, (which is the Hunting-horse) hath his virtue, consisting in long and weary toil, this other in quickness of speed and sudden fury. And as the one requireth a whole day for his trial, so this other in comparison, must dispatch in a moment. For the choice of your running Horse, it nothing differeth from your hunting, save that you may dispense with sundry faults in this Horse for a course, which may not be tolerable in a Hunting-horse, as for example. If your Horse be long and loosely made, that is, not so short and closely knit together as a Hunting horse should be, yet for a course he may be excellent, and in short races show great swiftness. Also if he be small limed and weakly jointed, although these faults I utterly disallow, and mis●like, yet shall you find many Horses of a wonderful speed, to entertain these infirmities.  
Now, when you have a Horse, whose shape, countenance, and demeanour, promiseth assurance of great swiftness, and you addicted only to that pleasure or exercise, in this sort shall you train and bring him thereunto. First being fair and fat taken from the grass, or bought in the Market, see that in all points you diet, dress and order him, as is before prescribed for your Hunting-horse the two first months, only let his exercise not be thereafter, but in this manner.  
Every morning and evening, ride him into some fair Meadow, More or Heath, and there for half an hour, gallop him gently upon the hand, even so softly as you can possibly make him set down his feet: but if he be so furious, that he will not gallop at his ease, but with too great vehemency, then shall you make him gallop ten yards, than trot as much, and in this sort galloping one while and trotting another, exercise him, till he understanding your mind, fall of himself to a gentle, light, and easy kind of gallop: which attained to, practise him therein for two months, not by any means putting him to matter of force, or extremity, nor ever suffering him to understand his own speed: but that all he doth, he may do with lust, courage and strength, still pressing and striving to do more than he doth. The benefit of this exercise is this: the ground being so plain, smooth, hard & firm, without either fear of stumbling, or doubt of too great toil, and your labour so moderate, your Horse shall learn a true nimble stroke, and withal, so couch his body thereunto, that when you shall never so little force him, he will launch out himself in such wonderful manner, that what strength and nature may possibly bring to pass, art shall assist in the highest degree that may be.  
Whereas, if you should exercise him upon overthwarts and deep grounds, first as the toil would be so wearisome, that for want of ease, he would rather loiter then increase in swiftness, so would the uncertainty, and unevenness of the earth so alter and break his stroke, that not finding means to lay his body to his length, or to launch out his legs to the advantage of great speed, he shall be made to frame himself to a short idle gallop, which albeit he may be able long to endure, yet will it be so slow, that it will breed little profit for a swift course. Some may make answer unto me, and say: that forasmuch as I instruct them upon the plainest grounds, not to exceed the slowest gallop that may be, that thereby I shall as well wont my Horse to idleness and to a short stroke, as if I did exercise him on the deepest orethwarts.  
My reply is this: upon the fair plain grounds, galloping my Horse at this ease, if at any time I list (as many times it must be done) to make him spring into some good round speed, I shall both find the ground so fit for the purpose, and my Horse's willingness so great, that the more I offer, the mor● he shall desire: where on the other part, if upon orethwarts I shall offer it, neither will the ground serve, unless a man will wilfully break his neck, nor long can the Horse's strength endure it, be he of never so great ability. Having trained your horse in this sort evening and morning, for the space of two Months, keeping him in good hunting diet, and finding his speed and towardness to increase, as there is no doubt but it will, then being at the least six years old, you may adventure to coarse him more thoroughly. And if either pleasure or necessity urge you, either run bell course, or wager. If you do make any match, have great respect to the nature & property of your Horse, for if you exceed his ability, there is no doubt but you shall lose wilfully: therefore in this manner regard it. If your Horse be quick, hot and fiery, then is it impossible he should be tough, hard and durable, wherefore for him, the shorter, harder and plainer your course is, a great deal the better. Yet if it have as we term them, either inwithes, upwithes or downwithes, that is, either running within the side of a hill, climbing up a hill, or descending down a hill, it much availeth, as well for recovery of his wind, as the maintenance of his strength and courage. For a hot Horse that runs of an even level, unless he be exceedingly strait held in, will not only spend himself too outrageously, but also run himself out of wind wilfully, which once too far spent, is in a course very hardly recovered: whereas if he have either descent or climbing, nature teacheth him as well to be his own favourer, as art in his Rider to be his governor. If your horse be still and heavy of himself, slow, starting, always rather craving, then oft of free-will offering, such Horses I say be tough, strong, and durable, or else for nothing but a Collier's coale-sack profitable, wherefore for such Horses, the long, deep, and tedious course is most available, because what want of speed looseth, truth and toughness may recover. Having made a match, be always well advised to reserve a month at the least to diet and make your Horse fit in: nay, if he have not been before in diet for a course, if you reserve six weeks it shall be better, because a horse newly entered into so strict a diet, will for the first fortnight mourn, and fall away exceedingly, that a month will be little enough to recover his strength, and bring him to absolute perfection: wherefore for his diet and keeping, let it be in this manner.  
First look upon him, and as near as you can by his dung, thickness of his rib, cleanness of his chaule, and other external parts, judge in what temper and state his body standeth, and how far he is either out of case or in case, for the running of a course. Some Horses will run best when they be high and full of flesh, which is the worst and least to be trusted: others when they be but in indifferent case, and somewhat poor to look upon, which is the best, and most to be esteemed: of which of these kinds your Horse is of, your experience in his training must give you knowledge. As for them both they have but one manner of diet, save that you must have this care, if he that runneth high be poor, then must you in his diet pamper him, and get him into lust and strength, making him to endure no more labour than you are forced unto for preservation of his wind: and let your strongest scouring be a sweet mash of malt, which as it scoureth, so it strengtheneth and comforteth, to him you may spare sweats and night air, or any other thing that abateth his strength or flesh.  
If that horse which runneth best low and poor, be high and fat, then to him must you use the contrary mean, which mean I will express in a larger manner, showing the true art of dieting in him, because he craveth all the helps that may be: wishing you to use the same manner to all running Horses of what nature soever, only reserving to your discretion, matters of extremity.  
Having therefore made your match, and taken such sufficient time as in good discretion shall be requisite, enter well into the consideration of the state of your Horse's body, which finding to be strong, full of lust, and courageous, through his great fatness: yet by that mean so pur●ie, kettie, and thick wound, that he cannot show that wonderful speed and goodness which otherwise he would demonstrate, thus enter him into his diet. First next his skin, lay a fair linen sheet, because Horses naturally love to be sweetly kept, and the more neat they are, the more proud and pleasing to themselves: next the sheet, lay a blankette or two, and over them a housing cloth of Canvas or sackcloth, bind these close before your Horse's breast, and then gird them on with a sur-single, stopping it round about with little wisps.  
This done, let your stable wherein he standeth, be made dark, close and warm, having continually great store of litter lying about him, the reason for these forementioned things is this. First for the linen sheet, as it is neat and pleasing to the Horse, so it carrieth this commodity, when nature shall so vehemently strive in the beast, as what through his extreme fatness, unusual warm keeping, and continual rest, he shall, (as many times he will) break into great sweats, insomuch as when you come to him, you shall find him all of a water, the linen being next his skin, even as the force of nature shall leave his working▪ so will the linen dry, and be no further annoyance: whereas if the woollen should lie next his skin, it would not only force him to sweat unnaturally, but also fauster and continue his sweats, till it turn to faintness, and then as the sweats proceeding of natural causes, strengtheneth, comforteth, and maketh clean the body, so those being forced, weakeneth, dulleth, and maketh faint every part and member.  
For the many clothes before prescribed, they are for two causes: first, to be a help to nature, and an occasion now and then to sweat as he sleepeth or takes his rest, if he be extreme foul, and most abundantly full of gross umors: for otherwise the ●elfe sweats will not chance. And this manner of disoluing these umors, is most natural and wholesome. The second cause is, a Horse being pestered and as it were loaden with many clothes, when he shall come to be stripped naked and eased of them, will find himself so light, nimble and deliver, that in his course he will show the uttermost ability he can possible. Again, being kept so warm in his clothes, when he is naked, the cold air will be so piercing, that whereas otherwise a course of three or four mile, would thrust him into an extreme faint sweat, by this mean, such a course shall but maintain a natural heat without sweat or faintness.  
For the darkness of the stable, I have rehearsed a reason in the former Chapter, therefore in this place I will yield no other but this: because the Horse shall not distinguish the day from the night, but being kept dark, take his rest in both. My reason for the much litter I would have him continually stand upon, is this. First, because it will defend him from the cold dampishnes of the earth, which is wonderful unwholesome. Secondly, because he shall not detain and hold his urine longer in his bladder then willingly nature would, which if he have litter under him, he will not do, but if he want undoubtedly he will: because naturally Horses will refuse to piss upon the bare plaunchers.  
Lastly, because it will occasion him to lie down and take his rest, when otherwise he would not: and he that will expect his Horse should take great toil abroad, must provide that he may rest at home. These foresaid reasons being well considered, you shall consequently see that the Manger wherein your Horse f●●deth, be kept sweet and clean, without dust, filth, or any other excrament of uncleanness.  
Also have regard that his Rack be clean, without cobwebs or other annoyance, and that there be not any Mudwall near him to bite or gnaw upon. For his ordinary meat in his Rack, it shall be nothing but Wheat straw well threshed, given by a sheaf at once, morning and evening: and th●s much for these general things, now for other particular matters, they shall ensue in order.  
First, when you come to your Horse in the morning, (which would be if he be a very fat Horse, an hour or two before day, if lean, not before sunne-rise, if neither fat nor lean, then after day, and before sunne-ryse) put your hand under his clothes, and feel about his flank and rib, whether he be wet or dry, that is, whether he have sweat that night in his clothes or no, if you find he have and is not fully dry, then leave him, and let him rest until such time as naturally he dry of himself. If he be dry ere you come, or have not sweat that night, then see that his clothes be well girt about him, and take a Bridle and Snaffle, the Snaffle being washed either in Beer or Ale, and having bridled him, lead him forth in your hand to the height of some Hill: and there walk him up and down for the space of an hour or more, not by any means pulling or compelling him to lead, but suffering him to go how and which way he list.  
If he offer to stand still, stand you still with him, if he offer to go, go you, if he covet to lie down, do not hinder him, but in all you can further him thereunto, and with the bridle (if he cannot) help him to tumble over and over. If he be desirous to play, 〈◊〉 up and down, and scope with him in your hand: and thus in all things follow his mind, that he may understand he cometh abroad, not to do your will, but his own, if he be stand, lead him where some other Horse hath dunged before, and let him smell thereto, which will presently make him to d●ng himself, by which mea●es you may empty his belly at your pleasure. After you have thus wasted an hour or little more, lead him home again and set him up, this we call airing of a Horse, the reason and profit whereof followeth.  
To a fat Horse that is aired before day (through the sharpness of the air, cold dew, and discomfort by want of day or sunshine,) it abateth his flesh, and drieth up purs●nes, it refresheth him if he be dull, and causeth courage: it getteth him a stomach, it greatly increaseth his wind, and adds a great desire unto him to run and scope. If he be lean, and aired in the pleasantness of the morning & fair sunshine, it provoketh pleasure, and maketh a Horse proud in himself: by reason whereof his strength (which want of flesh decayeth) is the sooner recovered. For as airing before day diminisheth flesh, so this augmenteth, it keepeth him from loathing his meat, so that you can hardly cloy him, but his stomach will be ready to receive meat as oft as you offer it him: which is the chiefest thing to be regarded in a running Horse, because they will ordinarily take such loathe to their meat, that they will refuse what ever you make proffer of, and is no way to be remedied but by airing: this kind of airing helpeth the Horse's wind, and gives him desire to endure labour.  
If your Horse be in good state of body, neither too fat nor too lean, than the airing him after day and before sunrise, shall keep him in that state, and neither abate nor increase his fatness, but only help his wind, preserve his stomach, and make him willing to endure his course the better. Being aired and set up, after his legs have been well rubbed and chafed, unbridle him, and give him the quantity of a penny wheaten loaf, or as your discretion shall rule you, (for in these quantities your own wit must be your governor) of that bread which is last prescribed for your Hunting-horse in the former Chapter, which as soon as he hath eaten, leave him sweet Wheat-straw in his rack, shut up your stable windows and the door, and let him rest till it b● twelve or one of the clock in the afternoon, at which time, after you have put away his dung & made your stable clean, unclothe him, and dress him as is before expressed in the form●r Chapter, and then cloth him up again as he was before: having due regard, that during the time he is naked, you let him not stand still, but be working or doing somewhat about him: for whilst a Horse doth either stir himself, or hath his Keeper labouring about him, so long the Horse will never take cold.  
When you have finished your dressing, lead him out in your hand to the water, and let him drink his fill. Now for that there is great diversity in waters, as namely some small some strong, some feeding, some scouring, I will show you which water is for which Horse. First for the fat horse the smallest water is best, as that whose spring issueth from the Rock, and runneth upon stone or pebble, which to the eye is pure and clear as Crystal. For the lean Horse the strongest water is good, as that which runneth from some dunghill, or that which issueth from some common sewer, so it be refined and sweetened by his course of running, or the River into which is cast much garbage, blood, or other ex●raments.  
For the Horse that is in good state of body, as neither too fat nor too lean, a mean between these would do well, as the standing pond water, which is fed by a fresh spring, or that which issueth from either chalk or lime stone: for that water which I term small, as indeed it nourisheth little, it altogether scoureth and cleanseth both the body and reins, it preserveth a Horse from the stone, and helpeth pain in the kydneiss: yet is it to the taste both unpleasant and uncomfortable. Those waters I call strong, are binding, pleasant, comfortable, and full of nutriment, yet being taken excessively, breed many bad amours, as flux of bad blood, headache, dimness of sight, and great pursinesse.  
Those waters which are a mean between th●se two extremities, are the best, and most whols●mest, therefore to be had most in use, and that other two put as physic helps in tim● of need only. And thus much touching waters particularly, now in general thus. The less water your Horse drinketh, the better, so that nature through too much drought be not inflamed: for by drinking you may kill your Horse, by want you can never hurt him. And sith I am thus far entered into the treatise of water, I will in general show the discommodities that grew, by letting your Horse drink unadvisedly.  
First, if before you course your Horse, you let him drink, in his course you shall not only hazard the breaking of his wind, but also assuredly endanger the incording or bursting him. Besides, in such a case, he can neither show speed, truth, nor any goodness. If after he hath cou●st and is hot, you let him drink, you shall either founder him in his body, (which is a mortal disease,) or else so suddenly cool his grease, that it will clap to his heart, and cloy him so, as either he will die instantly▪ or else consume and waste away in short time after: which manner of death, unskilful Horsemen attribute to guiltless diseases, therefore in such a case, there is no other remedy but strong scourings & comfortable Mashes.  
If after you have coursed your Horse, and rested him two or three hours, you then in the hous● give him cold water, you shall so force him to queuer and shake, that he will be in danger of a Fever or worse infirmity: which shaking, if at any time you see your Horse use, immediately take his back, and trot him up and down till he be warm, or else with a good r●dde in the ●able, chafe him till he leave trembling. And thus much for the discommodity of water.  
Now to return back to my purpose, after your Horse hath drunk and is set up again, his legs being well chafed and rubbed, let him stand halfa an hour upon his bridle, which time being expired, give him the like quantity of bread as you did in the morning: or if you find he eateth his bread with no good appetite, you may give him five or six handfuls of Oats, well dusted and sifted in a fine siue, suffering him so to rest till five of the clock in the evening. At five of the clock come to him, put away his dung with your foot, and give him of bread or Oats, which you find he hath most mind unto, as you shall perceive, by offering him first a little of the one, and then of the other, such like quantity as is before prescribed: upon which let him rest till it be two or three hours within dark night, at which time bridle him up, and lead him forth to air, doing in all points as you did in the morning, save that as in the morning you lead him to the height of a Hill, so in the evening, you must lead him unto the valley near the edge of some running river, where he may receive the air of the cold water, which is sharp and piercing, working many good effects in your Horse. This manner of airing is for the fat Horse.  
The lean Horse would be aired half an hour or an hour before Sunnesette. The Horse who is in good state of body, would be aired after Sunnesette, and before day part. The reasons for which, are before dilated. Now after you have brought your Horse in from airing, and have chafed his legs well, give him the former quantity of bread, and so let him rest till the next morning, observing to spend all the next day in every point like this. It may be objected to me by some of our strict Keepers, as I know divers of that mind, that this manner of diet is too gross, and that it will rather nourish then any way diminish glut, fat, and pursinesse: yet when they shall with good judgement consider the want of Hay, and the extremity of his early and late ayring●s, and way them in equal balance with his food, they shall find it no deal at all too much.  
Having therefore spent two days in this sort, the third morning in stead of airing him, lead him in his clothes to the place appointed for his course, where when you come to the stake let him well unto it, and if he will (as many will covet) let him rub himself thereon, and so lead him to the place of start, observing to lead him with great leisure & care, forcing him as much as you can, both to dung and stolen. If all the way you lead him he refuse to stolen, then being come to the place of start, unloose his sursignle, and break all the wisps upon the ground under his belly, then by whistling gently with your mouth, procure him to stolen, which undoubtly he will do instantly, if he have not pissed immediately before. When he hath pissed, unbind his clothes, and thrust them back with your hand even to his buttocks, and so gyrdon your saddle: then do yourself piss in your Horse's mouth, which will give him occasion to work and ride with pleasure, and so get up into the saddle.  
In which when you are seated, let some person ●or that purpose appointed, (who having a spare Horse to carry your Horse's clothes after him,) stryppe the clothes from his buttocks, of which when he is disbourdened, fair and gently start him in his course, and make him run it over courageously and speedily. When you are come to the end of your course, turn your Horse gently about, and bring him to the stake, where let him a little pause and smell awhile, to give him understanding that there is the prefixed end of his labour, to which knowledge he will attain in short space. That done, gallop him gently as may be, to meet the man who bringeth his clothes, which presently throw upon him, and gird them with the surcingle, then leaping upon his back, place him gently home to the stable. Where when you have set him up, let his legs and body be well rubbed, but no cloth removed, then s●op the surcingle round about with great wisps, and so being tied in his bridle to the Rack, and having good store of litter under him, let him stand three hours, or two hours and a half at the least, at the end of which time come unto him and unbridle him, making him eat out of your hand two or three handfuls of Wheat ears, of that kind of Wheat which we call Pollard Wheat, because it is without aunds, that is, not bearded.  
When he hath eaten them, offer him a Mashe lukewarm, made of ground malt and water, being both sweet and strong, which when he hath drunk off, depart from him, and let him rest. At one or two of the clock in the after noon, come unto him, and if he be thorough dry, and the sweat hard baked upon his hair, let him be unclothed, curried, rubbed, and trimmed, and so clothed up again warm as he was before, giving him a good quantity of bread of eat, and for that day no water at all, because his Mashe must serve in stead of it, and a Horse for a course, is never to drink but once in twenty-four hours. This done, let him rest till within an hour of sunnesette, at which time lead him forth to air for two causes, the one because considering his course in the morning, which was full of toil and labour, it is necessary that in his airing he take some pleasure, least wont altogether to things uncomfortable, his courage decay, and he grow dull and unspritie: secondly, that you may have great respect to his dung, and whether he void and grease or no, which if he doth, then may you be well assured of his extreme foulness, and also understand, that your last course did your Horse great profit.  
Having ended your airing and set him up, give him both Bread and sweet Wheat-straw, letting him rest, and as you spent these three days, so spend your first fortnight, at the end whereof, you shall come to have almost an absolute knowledge touching the state of your Horse's body, if you will be circumspect and diligent, as an excellent Keeper ought to be.  
If you perceive by this fortnight's spending, that your Horse is reasonably clean within, sound, strong, and desirous to endure his course, yet through some little pursines and straightness of wind, what his heart in willingness would perform, want of ability hindereth, then in his second fortnight's keep, you shall thus help it.  
First let him have Wheate-straw in his Rack as he had before, also observe the same hours for his air, the same time for his feedings, and the same manner of dressing and watering him as in the former fortnight: only you shall alter his food in this manner. When you give him bread, let it not be the Bread mentioned before, but bake him a batch in this sort.  
Take of fine Oatmeal well dried, two pecks, of Beans one peck, of Wheat a peck, and of Rye a peck, let these be ground altogether, and well bolted through a bolting cloth, knead this meal with nothing but new Barm and the whites of Eggs, putting thereto a pound and a half of sweet Butter that hath not been potted. These being well wrought and laboured together, let it be thoroughly baked in great loaves. This bread is more hearty and strong than the other, yet it doth not cloy and feed so sore as the other doth. It is quick of digestion, openeth a Horse's pipes, and increaseth wind.  
Also during this fortnight, when you bring your horse from airing, you shall give him his Oats washed in this manner. Take two pecks of the best white Oats, and let them lie in the sun for the space of an hour or more, which done, lay them between two clean clothes, and with a couple of sticks let them be thoroughly batted, then fan away the hulls from the Oats, which your batting will drive off, and take the whites of a dozen or twenty Eggs, and in those whites wash your Oats, which being thoroughly washed, dry them again in the Sun, and give them to your Horse according as your discretion pleaseth.  
Of all foods belonging to a running Horse, this is the lightest, finest, and most excellent for his wind. You may also if you please, (finding your Horse gross and kettie) in the morning before you air him, give him a new laid egg or two raw at his mouth, which is very sovereign for a foul Horse, because it scoureth the stomach, and procureth long wind.  
During this fortnight, let your Horse after every two days rest, have a course, yet in all, not above three courses that may be sore in deed, and the rest in a playing manner, not exceeding a good round gallop. After every course let him have a sweet Mashe, because that will cleanse and scour away all such filthiness as shall by his coursing be dissolved. If your Horse be either so old that you dare not well adventure to coarse him so oft as you would, for fear of decaying his courage, or renewing of former strains, which might bring him to lameness: or if the weather be such that you cannot coarse in it, or there be any other impediment to hinder that exercise, which should bring your Horse to perfection, and nevertheless, you are both compelled to hold your wager, and also find your Horse in no good temper, you shall then to bring him to perfectness, give him a sweat in his clothes in the stable after this manner.  
first you shall stryppe him naked, then take a blanket, and warm it hot against the fire, folding it in many folds: this blanket thus heated, wrap round about your Horse's body next his heart, pinning the same very close and straight, then lay upon him two or three other blankets, and two or three good thick Coverlets, girt these about him with a sur-single, and make them fast and close before his breast, then stop the sur-single round about with great wisps of straw, and lay him good store of litter under him up to the belly. In this manner let him stand a quarter of an hour, your stable being made so close and warm as is possible.  
If in that space he begin not to sweat, lay some more clothes upon him: if all that do no good, then take him forth of the stable, and leap upon his back, trotting him in some fair Court or Close, till he begin to sweat, and then set him up again, and lay a blanket or two more upon him. In this manner let him sweat for an hour, or an hour & a half, during which time stand by him, and with a clean cloth, wipe away the sweat from his face and neck. When he hath sweat sufficiently, you shall cool him by little and little, as first taking away one cloth, and then within half a quarter of an hour another: and so one after one, till you have lightened him of divers, having great regard to have some Keeper with you, who with wisps and clothes, may all the while rub his face, his neck, his belly, and flanks, till with his rubbing and the abating of his clothes, he become to be as dry as ever he was.  
When he is thus dried, and clothed again after his usual manner, give him a sweet Mashe, and all the day after, feed him well with bread. These manner of sweats be the only means that may be, to bring an extreme fat Horse to cleanness, and the high way to bring a lean horse to such poverty, that he will hardly be able to go. As these sweats be violent, and of great force, so to a fat Horse that hath strength to endure them, they add such lightness, agility and pleasure, that they be wonderful profitable: one of these sweats, doth take as sore of a Horse as three courses, therefore the seldomer to be used, and the greater care to be taken in using them.  
If your Horse in this fortnight (being unacquainted with diet, or being inwardly hot of himself) shall prove so costive or bound in his body, that he can either hardly dung, or dung more hard than you would have him, which is a great sign of unsoundness, and sickness to ensue: then to remedy that impediment, and prevent danger to come, you shall when you bring him from airing, give him his Oats, washed in strong Ale, the Ale being no more but draynd from them. This kind of food is cool and loosening, it is strong and hearty, yet doth a little increase pursines, therefore more fit for the lean horse then the fat, yet in time of need convenient for both.  
If this washed meat prevail not, but that his costiveness continueth, than it shall be necessary for you, to gue● him that scouring of Butter and Garlic, mentioned in the Chapter of hunting Horses, which assuredly will loosen any Horse, yet but in a reasonable sort neither. And withal, as it maketh solible the body, so it purgeth the head of impurity, and increaseth wind. Yet beware you scour not your Horse too much, for as to be too extreme costive, is an evil sign of sickness, so to be too much loosened, is a sign of weakness, therefore keep him in an indifferent temper rather hard then too soft, so the colour of his dung be good, which is pale and white, hot red and high coloured. And thus much for this second fortnight.  
Now for this last fortnight, which is all you have to keep him in before you run your wager, as I said before, so shall you now observe the same hours for airing, the same times for feeding and dressing him, as is before mentioned: only his water you shall give at no certain time, but always when you feed him, after he hath eaten a little, give him a dishfull of water, and then let him eat again, and then a little more water: and in this manner let him have his meat and water together, but have care that he have no more water then to quench thirst, not to glut his greedy nature.  
For this fortnight, you shall let him have no Wheate-straw, nor any other thing else in his Rack, and for his head you shall provide a mussel of Leather, or Canvas, made like a bag to come over his mouth, with two holes before his nostrils for to receive his wind, which being made fast at the top of his head, it will keep him from eating his litter, gnawing the Rack, Manger, or Walls about him, and yourself shall be assured, he eateth nothing but what cometh from your own hands. Into this mu●sell you shall put three or four times every day, aniseeds finely beaten into powder, for your Horse to smell upon, and now and then to lick on with his tongue, which is both wholesome, pleasant, and increaseth wind.  
For this fortnight you shall not by any means suffer him to eat in the Manger, because it may usually be foul and unclean, although you rub it never so sore, but provide to have a clean bowl, which you may yourself diligently keep neat and sweet, neither put all the meat he shall eat at one time into the bowl, for fear of cloying his eye, and so consequently his stomach, but put it in by little and little at once. Let his meat for this fortnight, be the bread last prescribed, and Oats washed in the whites of Eggs. Coarse him in this fortnight as in the former, so you be sure he may have two whole days to rest in before he run for the wager.  
Also the last course you give him, let it be in his clothes, and let him not exceed a false gallop: nay if he half gallop, half trot, it shall not be amiss, but profitable, for the more gently you use him that day, the more willing● he will be the next time to accomplish your desire. The first thing you give him to eat after every course, let it be a handful or two of Wheate-eares, and a little Musterdséede sprinkled upon them, to purge his head, and occasion him to neese, which is very sovereign.  
If in this fortnight he shall dry inwardly, or grow sickly, and that you find washed meat prevaileth not to remedy him, than you shall not by any means give him any scouring, because whatsoever entereth into the stomach and scoureth downward, being compounded (as it must be) of things in some sort contrary to nature, must of force weaken and draw low your Horse, and then you shall want sufficient time to get him into his former lust and courage again: but you shall minister unto him a glister of salad-oil, Milk, and the decoction of Mallows, this will draw his body into good temper, and both cool and comfort him.  
There be some Keepers which I know, that in such a case as this, will give their Horse a handful or two of thrashed Rye, or if it be at the time of the year, three or four handfuls of forage, which is the young green blades of Wheat or Rye, being sprung half a foot above the ground. I disallow of neither of these, though for mine own part I have little used them: therefore I refer the same to the discretion of them, which shall have occasion to employ them.  
In this fortnight, I would not have you give your Horse any sweat in his clothes in the stable, unless it be at the beginning thereof, for fear lest you thereby draw him to greater weakness than you can recover. During this fortnight, you shall not let your Horse eat any crusts of Bread, as well to avoid filthiness, as for that they b●e very hard of digestion.  
Now lastly, as touching the day in which your Horse must run for your wager, thus shall you use him. First the night before, you shall give him but a very little supper, so that he may be passing empty in the morning, on which morrow have him out, and air him an hour or two before day, taking great care that he empty himself thoroughly whilst he is abroad, then bring him in, and after you have well rubbed all his four legs, and anointed them thoroughly, either with Neates-foote oil, Treane oil, Shéepes-foote oil, or Lynséede-oyle, all which be the most excellentest oils that may be for a horse, especially the two last. Then give him this food, take a good big penny white loaf, and cut the same all out into toasts, and toast them against the fire, then steep them in muscadine, and lay them between hot clothes, and being laid before the fire, dry them again, and so give them to your Horse.  
These be so pleasant and comfortable, that your Horse's emptiness, (as he must be wonderful empty when he goeth to his course) shall little agrieve him. If you have not this ready to give him, if then you give him half a peck of fine Oatmeal well dried, it shall be as good, for though it be not so pleasant, yet being so light a food as it is, it will both comfort his stomach, and be soon digested. When he hath eaten this, put on his Mussel, give him great store of litter, and unloose his surcingle, that his clothes may hang lose about him, and so let him stand to take his rest, till the hour in which he must be led forth to run his wager, not suffering any man to come within your stable, for fear of disquieting your Horse.  
When the hour is come in which you must lead him out, gird on his clothes handsomely, bridle him up, and then take your mouth full of strong Vinegar, and spyrt it into your Horse's nostrils, the strength whereof will search and open his pipes, making them apt for the receipt of wind. This done, lead him to the race, and when you come at the end thereof where you must unclothe him, having the Vinegar carried after you, do the like there, & so bequeath him and yourself to God, and good fortune. Chè sera sera.  
FINIS.