The Vaulting Master: OR The Art of Vaulting: Reduced to a Method, comprised under certain Rules, illustrated by Examples, And Now primarily set forth,  
By WILL. STOKES.  Xenoph. de magisterio equitum. 
Juniores persuadendi sunt, ut in equos insilire discant: Landem verò jure mereberis, si quem adhibueris magistrum sen praeceptorem.  
Imprinted at London by I. Okes. 1641.   

The Epistle to the Reader  
Courteous Reader:  
ALthough now adays it be little better than paper cast away, to entertain the Reader in the entrance of a Book, though with never so necessary an eloquence; since men will not so lose the pleasure and Venery of envious Censure, but hastily run on to banquet their gall with those faults which they will either find or make: And although (as one says well) a man had better never write than give an account to every one of that he has written: Nevertheless, I am determined not to give ear to such a cowardly wisdom, lest I incur a double imputation; either as not daring to meet with the Detractor, or not caring to salute the Ingenious. There are some, I make no doubt (though in other matters sufficiently knowing, yet ignorant in this) who do and will dislike the thing itself, nay the very name of Vaulting, as accounting it an unnecessary and dangerous exercise, a device to break one's neck, or limbs, or the like: but such when they know more, will answer themselves; in the mean time, their ignorance is a sufficient punishment. Another sort there are, who are content to allow the thing, but will by no means have it an Art, but rather the child of an accidental and undigested experience, receiving the degrees of its excellency, from blind custom only and difference of bodies: It were too long to confute these by reason, and likewise unnecessary in this place, seeing I have amply shown it in the following leaves. A third sort there are, who grant it to be an Art, and this Art extraordinarily available in the practice; but they will say it is not so accurately handled, nor in so exact a method as it deserves. To such, since it concerns myself, I ingenuously confess, I have done in it what I was able; nor am I such an enemy to the common good, as to envy, or not rather calmly to suffer myself to be cast out before him, that can and will perform it better. Yet let me comfort myself with this truth, that all Arts, if they be so handled that they may teach, will nor admit of that elegancy of word and phrase, which though they becomingly dress, yet they dazzle the eye of the Reader. A fourth sort there are yet behind, who I know will wonder, whence I amongst all the excellent Professors of this Art, both English and foreign, should have the confidence to enter upon this Tract, which had been worthy of the best of them; and first of any (I think I may safely say so) dare expose myself under this tirle to the Press and public view. This indeed comes nearest me of any; but I shall answer (and as I think, beside their expectation) that what they account in me a fault, and a malapert undertaking, I esteem as my greatest happiness; nor would I change the glory of being the first that have written, with that of having written: Since in all men's opinions, the first Founders of all Arts and Sciences, have been as honourable as those that have built upon their foundations to the fairest height: but enough of this, lest I seem to hug my good fortune even to ostentation, which might have been another's, and perhaps more fit for such a burden, and far more better deserving the honour of precedency. Yet, Reader, this I will say, if happily it may add any value to me or this my work: although I had rather my work should praise both itself and me: Thou hast the fruit and observations of almost thirrie years, and Rules confirmed by daily practice during so long a time: if this may add any thing to the esteem of my labours, so be it: For the rest, examine the whole piece, and thou shalt find Reason embracing Experience throughout: and among reasonable men then, how can it miss of its ends, viz. the public good, and a just acceptance? Nor need the Practitioner complain of obscurity, as in many other, who do so interlard their writings with the knotty terms of Art, that they may be said both to teach and not to teach. I have laboured to avoid that vice, as having seen the ugliness of it in them. Besides the plainness of the phrase too, wherein every Pass is dressed, I have added to each a lively and beautiful Cut; that so what is but dead as it were in words, may be there seen in motion and to the life, the rule and the example mutually illustrating one another. What is else requisite for thy learning (gentle Reader) thou shalt find it there: only as I have freely and painfully opened myself to do thee good, so do thou stop the mouth of malice, and defend this child of mine in the father's absence, and esteem according to his merits of him that is,  
Thine to command, WILL. STOKES.   

To the truly noble Gentleman, Mr. Heury Percy, Master of the Horse to the Prince his Highness, etc.  
Honoured Sir:  
IT is in me a boldness, I must confess, that deserves not to be pardoned, on so small interest to present a Toy, a light and undigested Pamphlet to you that are so far above it: And yet me thinks this boldness is much more answerable, when I consider that you were once pleased (during that time, in which you were both an Ornament and an Honour to the University) to make use of my mean skill, and humblest service in this kind: and likewise that there is none more able, either to protect or judge of what I have written. From the first I draw encouragement proper to myself; in the other I make that encouragement mine, which is, or aught to be common to all that would make a fit choice of patronage. And on these grounds I have presumed, among those many happier and more worthy labours which wait on your Name, to place this little one: which (although as it can never hope, so it can never have the happiness to enjoy that measure of your Sunshine, and so bounteous an eye as those more deserving) shall nevertheless rest content in the conscience of that everlasting service which the Father of it owes. Be pleased then (most worthy Sir) to suffer your Name in the Front of this, otherwise poor and defenceless Book. So that by that means it becoming acceptable to the world, I may not doubt but afterwards it will prove as profitable. My last, but not my least hopes are, that as you loved this Art in your youth, and have honoured it since, so you will still advance it, and continue your favours to him that is  
Your most humble Servant, WILL. STOKES.   

The Preface.  
AS in the greater world there is no one quality more noble and necessary than motion and activity, it being that whereby Air excelleth the Earth, and Water and Fire the Air, and the Heavens the Fire; and that whereby all these do preserve themselves, and those creatures they contain: So neither in the little world; Man, whether in respect of the Soul, as being most nearly allied to the nature thereof, it being in itself a perpetual Motion, as also the fountain of all Activity; or in respect of the body, as being that only whereby we are known to live, and which chief distinguisheth that Earth we are made of, from the residue we tread on. Now although it be impossible for a man to attain to that height of agility which is found in those greater bodies, it will be sufficient never thelesse, if Art conspiring with an able Constitution, may and hath rendered men equal to the most active of the beasts. This no doubt will seem a paradox to some, that are enamoured of the admirable speed of a Hart, or Horse, or the nimbleness of a Cat, or have seen the Apes: but let such consider the wonderful frame of a man's body, how it is the pattern (as it were) whereby both the world and all other creatures were made; how in his sight the Horse, in his heart the Lion, in his hands the Ape, in his back the Elephant are (as it were) stored up, all making one, by so much more mighty than they all, by how much he is but one: and they shall find that Nature is not wanting to man, but man to himself, and that it is not lack of ability, but lack of use, that has shrunk men's sinews, and enfeebled them, even to the contempt of beasts. Is it not a shame then, that men shoul so forget that they live, and out of a base love of idleness, suffer their bones to gather rust, as it were, and the gout lock up their joints; choosing rather a chair than legs of their own, and the perpetual trouble and torment of Physic, than to need none: a man may not unfitly think, they practise to lie still all their life time, lest their grave being not used to it, should be too troublesome. Certainly, ashame it is in any, but especially in a Gentleman, as in a Gentleman likewise the contrary love of ingenious exercise is most praiseworthy: considering the meaner sort of people are called to it by their necessities, when as the Gentleman is, or should be stirred up to it by the desire he has to do his Country good, and to heap honours on his name by his brave and heroic actions: which how can he, when by a degenerous and unactive life, his body becomes utterly unserviceable, and his soul, when she would show herself in action, is in fetters, and set as they do Horses in their trial, to draw at a tree. Well then do those, and worthy are they of their Ancestors, as of the hearts and eyes of all men, who loathing the lazy and unmanly life, do so accustom themselves by daily use to exercises of all sorts, that they may be no slower in their actions, than their intentions, and have bodies like the souls of the other. Equally  with those sons of idleness are those, who out of a having and parsimonious disposition, will not go to the price of Art, Art that is as it were another creation, and gives those helps which Nature never meant, nor hoped, which must always sister Use, and be in joint commission with Industry, or a man can never arrive at that excellency and height, in this kind, which he is capable of: And this I speak as well in general, in respect of all bodily exercises; since there is not one of them (though mere strength and Use may perform things indifferently admirable) but must expect their sinishing, and perfection from the hand of Art: as also more especially, in respect of the Art of Vaulting (the Subject of this present Treatise) as being as excellent and amiable as any of her sisters, if not more, and partaking in as high a degree of the favours of Art, and the advantageous helps of mastery and skill, as those that have their title Sub privilegio, and happily have gained the more early approbation of the world: Not that I do herein challenge the Science of Defence, or by comparison provoke to the combat; since I know she is as sufficiently armed as able to defend herself; but as considering they are sisters, and therefore in hope they will without grudging endure each others praises; so neither that I would hereby detract from the faculty of Dancing, for what were it but for one hand to wound the other, since I profess both. No rather, let the ingenious that desire to be acquainted with this Art, suspend their judgements till by some trial they find it, though boldly, yet deservedly praised: in the mean time I shall have my ends, if what I have said may provoke men only to the love of it, and excite in the gentle breast a desire to see what he has read, not doubting then but the success will warrant my confidence, and that the Art will commend itself to the shame of words. Nevertheless, I must not omit those parts of its praises, which are yet behind, lest I betray the former, and if any thing can raise it to an equal glory with its fellows, what more authentically than its antiquity; example in any thing being that which most readily procures men's assent to it, and the more ancient the example, the more assuredly ready the assent. There might be much probably alleged to this purpose, but let this one suffice for all; it is Homer's, the ancientest of the Greek Poets, when describing Ajax leaping from the beak of one ship to another, he useth this Simile: 
Iliad. 15.   
As when a man well knowing how to use  
The vaulting Horse, of many a Steed doth choose  
Four from the field, and to the City drives,  
Whilst many a man and woman, thronging strives  
To see, he safely, and nimbly leaps from one  
To th'other horse, yet they still forward run:  
So Ajax, etc.  
Certainly a most ancient and infallible testimony. To its antiquity we may add its use, which daily experience has found to be manifold, both in peace and war, for need and pleasure. In war, the nimble avoidance of a man's horse, if wounded or killed under him, and in like manner the ready ascent into his enemy's saddle, if it be his hap to unhorsed him, and much more, which the experienced Soldier shall find: In peace, a thousand graces to horse-manship, services to Ladies, and other courtly feats depend on it, besides infinite that practice will meet with, which cannot now be thought on. One thing more, the generally embraced esteem and community thereof, it has been loved even of Princes, and now is: Do not thou then (gentle Reader) distaste, or neglect an Art so honoured by its Fautors, so anciently worthy, and so generally necessary; but give it entertainment and love, which is that I have endeavoured according to my ability to persuade, and then I shall think thou wantest nothing but a Teacher, and not repent that I have made those things public, which were the peculiar rights of a private School: And so let us descend to the practice.   

To the Reader: On this new and excellent Book, called the Vaulting-Master.  

YOu that in wanton silks diseases hid,  
And wear your limbs so lose, they scarce can 'bide  
A friends embrace; you that are feign each day  
To bribe your health, and keep your life in pay,  
That of your generous youth and Ancestry  
Decoction make, only to feed lust high:  
That take no pains, but on your  or whore,  
And only leap, ride, vault by metaphor:  
If you yet live, can call yourselves your own,  
And have not all i'th' sea of women sown,  
If when you hear (as now) the iron Car,  
And brasse-hooved Steeds of all-consuming war,  
In horrid noise, approach our threatened North;  
You, nobly roused, can reassume that worth,  
Which heaped-up riots hid, and would assay  
For man again, would any show the way:   

Here's that will soon restore what e'er hath been  
Impaired by ease, or what more eating sin,  
Here's that will set your nerves in tune again,  
And find for each forgotten string a strain:  
Wind up your sickly muscles, and refine  
Th'embased spirits to temper Mascutine.  
Here's that will make a stubborn armour wear  
Gentle as Persian silks, and light as air,  
And will the way into the saddle find,  
Though th'Horse be high as hills, wild as the wind.  
The Eastern Conqueror, no doubt, had he  
But known this Art, without Philosophy  
Had backed Bucephalus, and got his Crown  
By rules our age is blest with, then unknown.   

But why without Philosophy; yet all,  
That fills the following leaves, so rational?  
When demonstrations build each page, when each  
Period doth prove, and every letter teach?  
When Aristotle (lived he) would add this  
To's thefts, and call the Vaulting Master, his?   

And is not he well worthy an embrace  
From time, from truth, from all the world, that has  
Been fruitful of an Art, that rare-borne thing,  
A sister to the Seven, another string  
TO Apollo's harp? and in this age too, when  
Books drop from every common, undipt pen,  
And those too patched, imperfect, blind and lame?  
When all still writ but diversely the same?  
When only to dispatch Sermons and Plays,  
The Printer's feign to work on Holidays?  
Yet Sermons but each others meaning show,  
And Plays are but revived, when they are new.   

Howe'er the world determines, Oxford will  
One sheet with his due, her due praises fill:  
And would do more; but now his book's so near,  
Such beauties through this veil of praise appear,  
We busy wantoness have before it drawn  
(The fairest may mask, but not be hid in Lawn.)  
As when displayed to the discerning eye,  
Will soon out-grow both praise and Poetry.  
Now turn the lease o'er, and expect no less  
Nor longer; Only let my last hand dress  
My Friend in this becoming Elegy,  
Men could but crawl or swim, h'as taught them fly.   
N. H.   

On the Art of Vaulting.  

THou that hast still lived thy own statue, and  
Hast neither leg nor arm at thy command.  
Being strangely monstrous, young and old, a man  
And yet a carcase, whose limbs only can  
Move like the Dutchman's Motion; every part  
Being its own shackle from the want of Art.  
Who cannot mount a Palfrey, unless you  
Have a convenient block and stirrup too.  
Where like a Cripple thou dost bend thy back,  
Sitting upon a saddle as a fack.   

Learn now to wing the body, scorn to see  
Beasts the chief masters in activity.  
Thy soul is Quicksilver, while theirs is Led;  
Compared to thine, their very life is dead.  
Hence to be stiff is to degenerate,  
And wrong the Nobler Powers of thy Fate.  
Thou, like the heavens, hast an Intelligence;  
Thy motions too, like theirs, should outstrip Sense.  
What though thou yet hast stood fixed like a rock:  
As sails add swiftness to the heaviest block,  
And engines make stones fly; so here are taught  
Rules that can make each limb as quick as thought.  
Thou mayst mount higher by this Author's quill,  
Than Don Gonzado can with all his skill.  
No walls can stop thy passage, thou mayst do  
More by this Book, than Love, Fear, Hunger too.  
Thou shalt no more live Soloecisms, and see  
A place, though lower, yet too high for thee,  
This healthful Art of Vaulting will proclaim  
Thy body strong, though Doctors swear thou'rt lame.  
Ladies by this will know thou'rt none of those,  
Whose tender flesh hangs loser than their .  
Should some nice Dame hold out as long as Troy,  
And after ten year's courtship still be coy,  
Unmoved with Rings and Verses, yet her force  
Can't stand the stratagems of the Wooden Horse.   
R. W.   

Upon a Book written by Mr. STOKES of the Art of Vaulting.  

TO you we own (skilled Sir) that we now see.  
Endennized here the French agility:  
We may be easily nimble now at home,  
Oxford being Mistress to all Christendom,  
Nor need we take a leap to France, or aught  
Strive to be expert i'th' venereal Vault,  
We shall not overheat ourselves so much,  
That we may straddling walk, or need a Crutch.  
This wooden Horse, like Balaams learned Ass,  
Can teach his Rider, yet not move a pace.   

Nor shall we mount lean Rozinante's brood,  
Though he's so dry he may be ta'en for wood.  
We cannot our dull Courser running set,  
Like the swift trav'lling Juggler, Pacolet:  
Yet by this active Art Orlando can  
Leap hedge and ditch without his Barbican;  
And men henceforth ennimbled, may detest  
To owe their journeys to th' ignobler beast.  
I hate these lumpish Solonists, who make  
Their leaping Helicon, a standing Lake.  
Which think't enough if they vault in their clay,  
And make their Thought their sole Angelica:  
As if you learned not in your Spheres, the School.  
That heavy bodies harbour heavy souls;  
Or that the flaming Fancies soar the higher,  
And that wit pierces most, that's made of fire:  
Nature's become an Art now, and each fool  
May see the world is but one Vaulting School.  
The active blood doth its Palaestra keep,  
And nimble pulse continually doth leap.  
So, issuing oft from crannies, wind hath taught  
The stubborn earth against her will to vault,  
And hath the lazy mountains bowels rend,  
Both for a precept and a punishment.   

I'll now leave Plato, credit Mandevill,  
When I see th'head so far below the heel.  
What greater Sophistry can th'answerer fear,  
Than to see Vaulters at once here and there.  
And the dull Optic Senses scarce perceive,  
When to this side they fly, or that they leave?  
If then the strangest Science we most prize,  
To make Even number, let's This canonize,  
And choose Him Christmas Aristotle then,  
Who made our hands be guided by his pen:  
That this deadwood revived by common praise,  
May grow once more, and bring forth learned Bays,  
And may its fruits so to the world impart,  
That each new year may find out a new Art.   
Stephen Skinner.   

To Mr. STOKES: Upon his new and admirable Book of the Art of Vaulting.  

THis is no age for Apes: (although it can  
Show many a motley, frisking Gentleman)  
False capers, and soft cringes, that betray  
Who's a French Courtier, are quite laid away:  
Our Gallants are grown sound,  learned a sport  
For men of backs, and may be liked at Court.  
He that can mount the wooden Palfrey best,  
And sit him as Knights Errand do their beast;  
Descend so quick, that you would swear he flies,  
And were himself the Pegasus; can rise  
All the Reverses; English, French Pomadoes,  
The Saddle-jumps, intricate Strappadoes;  
Hover so lightly the Angelica,  
You'll think a real spirit were i'th' play:  
Can stretch his sinews so, to jump with ease  
The Stags long leap, the Leap of Hercules:  
Has mettle for each Term, and were they more  
Than Logic has, could do them all thrice o'er.   

He, he's the Man! He shall applauded be  
'Bove the gay suits, and Tinsell-Poetrie:  
Mark how the Ladies drink to Him alone!  
He man's them out; He's talked on too at home.   

All this your Book affords, and your large skill  
Lies not i'th'back alone, but in the Quill:  
He writes best that does teach; I like the man  
Will gain the world his Scholar if he can.   

Thus Art amends weak Nature: Tell me one  
That e'er grew strong by demonstration!  
Nimble by rule before? What was good parts  
Is now grown study, and makes up our Arts.   

And you'll a deed of Benefactor do,  
To join your School to Bodley's Buildings too.   
Richard Godfrey.   

To his friend the Author of this Book, and most expert Instructor in this Art.  

NO view of former Tract hereof, thy pen  
Doth guide, (a vaulter needs no stirrup) then  
Take time, from th'ground of this your Art, and spring  
Above a rivals aim, or envy; bring  
Thy Pegasus in view, and let us see,  
Though many vaunt, if any'll vault with thee.  
Thy Art I manhood stile; for that, its use  
Is man to's proper motion to reduce,  
Which upward is: by stooping low, to rise,  
It makes him know humility, to prise  
Celestial exercise: whereby men do  
Not in affection, but in body too,  
Mount up above this earth, and trial make,  
Which way their active souls would them betake,  
If loosed from the body; so they do  
Now but prove practice in the way thereto.  
Toys scale away, and cannot scale so high,  
Each Pass surpasses, let th'ambitious try  
T'at ta'en this Art, he'll quickly find, and say,  
That Vaulting is the only Rising way.   
Jo. Shearman.   

On the Author and his Book.  

Hark hither, Gallants, you that set no price  
On any games, but only Cards and Dice:  
And think all exercise is course and poor,  
Except to empt the quart, and fill your whore:  
I'll tell you how (if you desire to know)  
Your recreation shall a virtue grow,  
And all those hours you used to spend in vain  
Shall give you health, and bring your Country gain.  
Leave off your Carpet-games, they well become  
The Needle or Distaff, not the Sword or Drum:  
And in their place receive this active sport,  
Hatched first in Mars his, not in Venus Court.  
This to your weakened limbs will strength restore,  
Making that Brawn that was but Veal before.  
This to refine your bodies humorous bog,  
'Twill prove the covering of your soul, not clog.  
This makes you rise with such an even spring,  
As if each heel were helped with Hermes wing:  
And on your house sit with as firm a grace,  
As those that first sprang from the Centaur's race.   

Thank then his pains, who such a care hath took,  
To make you now his Scholar by his book:  
And grudge not though you at some charges be,  
You'll quickly save it in the Doctors fee.  
He could be well content you all should come,  
And practise o'er your rules with him at home:  
But since that may not be, he thus hath sent  
(As objects use) his Species, to present  
His Art aright: and if I oft can see,  
They show't to life, though he at distance be.  
The Horse which in his school ne'er knew a life.  
Nor other form, than of the workman's knife,  
Lives in the picture, and would surely go,  
Did but the Soldier once the reins let flow:  
Who with such nimble joints seems o'er to come,  
The lookers on can scarce refrain to hum.  
This only blame can on the Graver fall,  
He cut none by to catch him, should he fall.   

Since then this work hath reached so fair an end,  
That only he that made it can it mend,  
I in my friend's behalf, 'gainst such as blame  
His worthy pains, or think his Art but lame,  
Thus far do pray. May they a stirrup lack  
Trav'lling, and got off from their horses back,  
May they walk down the steepest hills with pain,  
And at their feet want stocks to rise again.   
S. G.   

IN the first Figure you are shown how to prepare yourself to the Horse, which motion is equally necessary in every Pass: the Figure is speaking, and I interpret it thus. March forwards to the Harse, then lay your left hand on the fore pummel, the reins of the bridle under your hand, placing your left leg in a direct line answerable to that hand, your right leg behind the left in the fashion of a Roman (T,) your body sidewise; this done, march forwards one pace with your right leg, advancing the left; then retreat one pace back with your left, advancing the right; so shall you find yourself in the same posture this Figure does present, and ready for the following Pass.  

The First Figure.    

The first Pass.  
BEing thus prepared, the first Pass brings you into the saddle, and is thus performed: by raising of your right arm, and extending your right leg, provoke yourself to the spring, then at once sink your body, clap both feet to the ground, move your right hand back, and spring, clapping your right hand on the hinder pummel, and withal nimbly shifting it from thence to the fore pummel, equally poise your body on the strength of your arms with a strait leg, and you shall gracefully sink into the saddle, then when you have occasion to alight, clap both hands on the fore pummel, raising your body to the strength of your arms, and reverse your right leg over the hind pummel, keeping it strait as before, and bowing when you touch the ground: the one will make your descent sightly, the other easy. If you chance to make use of the common riding or hunting saddle, holding your left hand as before on the pummel, clap your right hand in the middle of the saddle, so raising your body, remove not your hand, till you are in the seat.   


John O-Neale    


Over The head of the Horse.   

The third Pass.  
OVer the head of the Horse you have the example before you, and it is thus done: march to the head of the Horse, as in the foregoing Pass, lay your left hand on the fore part of the main, then rise with all your force, (for it will be needful) and clapping your right hand on the fore pummel, advance your body thereon; and being thus elevated, let go your right hand, which you may safely do, for the spring of your arm in the going off, will send you with much ease to the ground.  
Another way there is to vault over the neck of the Horse, which is especially in use amongst the French, and it is thus: Stand as before, then taking your time, rise; and whereas in the former the right led the way, now let the left, so doing you must needs force off your right arm on the fore pummel: but be careful you quickly clap him in his place again, for you will need the help of both hands to carry off your body, in your descent bearing your back toward the head of the Horse.    

The fourth Pass, called the Pomado at the tail.  
STand in the some posture with leg and hand, as you did in the former, then taking the tail of the Horse in your left hand, move according to the precedent directions, and in your rise clap your right hand on the buttock of the Horse, by that means you shall raise your body to the strength of your arms, viz. to the elbow, which unless you do, you shall never be able to carry your body perfectly round into the same place where you stood at first, which is indeed the very life of the Pass, otherwise it is no Pomado, nor worth the looking on. And this rule is to be observed in all Pomadoes.   


The Miller's Pass   

The fifth Pass, called the Miller.  
TAke the Horse by the tail as before, and your rise at the hind leg on the further side of the Horse, then clap your right hand on the hind pummel, carrying your right leg beyond your right arm, then lose your hold at the tail, and at the same instant turning your body, and your left leg withal over the fore pummel, and you shall easily fall into the saddle with your face towards the head of the Horse.    

The sixth Pass, called the Pomado at the hind leg of the Horse.  
PLace your left hand on the hock of the hinder leg of the Horse on the near side, your arm firmly stretched out at length, and your body moderately inclining, or relying on that arm, it will be convenient likewise that you place both your legs together, omitting these motions, and time used in the other Passes, as preparatives to your spring, being in this no way graceful, and of little use: Thus prepared, spring, and clapping your right hand on the buttock of the Horse, where it may perpendicularly answer to that hand on the hock, so shall the right hand carry you, undoubtedly round, whilst the left supports the weight of your body. Now this (as all other Pomadoes) the more readily and roundly it is done, the danger is so much the less, and the greater the admiration of the beholders.  

The Pomado at the hind leg,    


The Hercules Leap,   

The seventh Pass, called Hercules his Leap.  
THis Pass is very fitly so named; for it does require great strength, and is not done by an ordinary man: The way of it is this, you shall stand on the further side of the Horse, with both your hands on both the pummels, your feet both together, then bowing your knees, with all your might raise yourself, bearing your right leg over your right hand, and your left leg over your left arm, forcing both your hands off in on motion, that your legs may come together before your body descend to the ground, otherwise there is no possibility of coming off without danger to yourself.    

The eighth Pass, called the Pomado at the hinder Bow of the Saddle.  
PLace your left hand on the hinder pummel on the near side of the Horse, your body composed as in the first Pass, then in your rise clap your right hand on the buttock of the Horse: but the right hand must rebound off with the body in the going: else that will prove a hindrance, which would be otherwise a furtherance: but provided always, the right leg lead the way, so shall your body fly hollow as it were on the strength of your arms, and making a true circumference, arrive at the point where the motion first began.  

the Pomado at the hind bow of the Saddle,    


The Mistress Comamnd,   

The ninth Pass, called The Mistress Command.  
YOur Horse ready, and your Gentlewoman seated, leave the reins of the bridle on the neck of the Horse, then fixing the left hand on the fore pummel mount, clapping the right hand on the hind pummel: but be sure the right leg move in the same time with the right hand, that so you may readily motion the right thigh towards the Gentlewoman's lap, and then reverse the same leg over the fore pummel into the saddle, without molesting her.  
If you will do this Pass after another fashion, take the bridle in your left hand, and putting it over the head of the Horse, place your hand on the poll, then taking your time, spring, from the ground, clap your right hand on the fore pummel, thrust your right leg thorough betwixt both the pummels, and you are in the saddle, the woman not so much as touched.    

The tenth Pass, called the Pegasus.  
TAke your stand on the further side of the Horse, and lay hold on the hinder pummel with your left hand, then keeping the time in your motion prescribed, spring up, and withal clap your right hand on the fore pummel: but so inverted, that the body of your hand may lay hold on the inner side of the pummel, otherwise it is utterly impossible you should come round, then as you are going, shift the left hand nimbly from the hinder pummel to the shoulder of the Horse, so shall you keeping your legs strait, your right leg leading the way, and maintaining your strength, fly round in a true compass, till both your feet be brought to the same side again, so down.   


The times whole Pomado.   

The eleventh Pass, called the Times whole Pomado.  
THis Pomado, as it surpasses all the forenamed Pomadoes, so it is very difficult, by reason your hands must be conveyed three times from pummel to pummel, before you can bring your body off round: but to the purpose. Place yourself on the near side of the Horse, laying your left hand on the fore pummel, than spring, and fasten on the hind pummel with your right hand, carrying your right thigh over that arm, that on it the body being equally poyzed, may rest till you can remove the left hand to the hinder pummel: for the right hand must fly off in the same time that the left hand comes, carrying both your legs over the fore pummel, the left leading the way, and so as soon as your body is come round on the near side again, clap the right hand behind you on the fore pummel, so bearing of your body with your face towards the head of the Horse.    

The twelfth Pass, called the Poysado.  
YOu see the Figure presents one lying with a strait body on his right arm, without the help of the other; a strange sight it is, and a thing not to be attained without great pains, and much practice: nevertheless he that is willing to learn shall not want a Teacher. Advance to the Horse, laying your left hand on the fore pummel, than your ordinary actions performed, spring up, settle your right hand strongly on the hind pummel, and raise your body equally in every part from head to foot, your left hand extended like the pole they that dance on the rope use, helping to poise it till it rest quietly and constantly on the right elbow: when you please to descend, clap down your left hand again on the fore pummel, and wheel your body off with both legs strait over the head of the Horse, to the ground on the farside; or if you will, you may reverse with the right leg over the fore pummel into the saddle.  

The Poysado    


Over three Horses   

The thirteenth Pass.  
OVer three Horses at once: Let your Horses stand abrest, and if there be any one higher than another, place the highest first; your Horses so ordered, march forwards, and clapping your left hand on the fore pummel of the first Horse, then taking your time, making no more motions than two, as is before prescribed: for in making more, you shall over-stand your spring, and tyre your arm with expectation of its burden; as likewise if you make less than two, you cannot sufficiently stir up your spirits, nor wind up your sinews to their full bent: this observed, mount your right leg leading the way, as well in your rise as in your fall, and clapping your right hand to your best advantage on the hind pummel of the first Horse, rise to the strength of your arms, and throw yourself off as high and equally as you can, and in your passage clap both your hands on the farthest Horse, so deliver your body to the ground.    

The fourteenth Pass, called the Pomado at the wall.  
THis Pomado is the top of all the rest, and as the most excellent, so the most dangerous of any: Present yourself therefore to the wall; at such a distance that you may have room enough to march three paces forwards, then without any intermission, in the very heat of the motion, clap your left hand strongly stretched out against the wall, and with all the agility that may be, raise your body with your face towards the wall, and the right leg foremost, making use of your right hand in your passage to hasten the motion, and to force your body the more swiftly round, neither taking your left hand from the wall (which is, as it were, the centre and supporter in all Pomadoes) till you feel it discharged of its burden, and yourself on the ground with both legs together, and in every respect postured as when you risen.   

The fifteenth Pass.  
THis Pass is of much use; for it will enable you to leap over rail, gate, or any other of the like kind, as high as your head, or lower, according to your strength: First then approach to the rail, or any of the , then laying your left hand thereon, make your motions with right and left leg, so often before shown unto you, and expressed in the first preparation to the Horse; then rise, clapping the right hand not above a foot distant from the other; so shall your body be equally poyzed, and you have strength enough to command it; otherwise it will so overload and oppress that arm, which else would easily carry your weight to the ground, that it is impossible you should escape without danger, if without hurt.   


Over the Raise 〈◊〉 at the wall   

The Pass into the Saddle,    

ANd these are the chief, if not all that can be done from the ground, either on the Horse, or otherwise, which I have handled plainly and methodically: the one being a degree to the other throughout, that so as the Learner increaseth in strength and agility, he may still have difficulties answerable to that strength, and like Hercules be still opposed by succeeding monsters, the following always more seemingly invincible than the former: 'tis true, there are many graceful passages on the Horse, which never take their rise from the ground, as manifold in their variety, as in number: but I choose rather to confine myself within this compass, as knowing these as they are more principally useful, so they do far more beseem a man: Nevertheless, if these my first fruits shall be favourably esteemed of, and pass the public without wounds, I shall be encouraged at some other fit opportunity to enlarge it with those, though not so substantial parts, yet ornaments of the Art, and publish whatsoever can be said, or done in this kind.  
FINIS.