Having Consideration of the Greatness and Littleness of her.

 

Of the Hunting of a Hare.

I am a Hare, a beast of little strength,
Yet making sport, of love and hentle jests,
For running swift, and hilding out at length.
I bear the bell, above all other beasts. 

Of the Properties of a Hare, and how to know the male from the female.

I will begin with the virtues and properties of a Hare, the which be very great and many, having consideration of the greatness and littleness of her. 

First, the blood of a Hare is a sore dryer, and if you anoint therewith any itching place, or a ringworm, it will dry it up and heal it.

The Hare has a little bone in a joint of her hinderleg called the Stifling Bone, which is very good for the colic and the cramp. 

Her skin burnt to powder is a sovereign medicine to staunch blood.

The Hare first taught us the use of the herb called wild succory, which is very excellent for those which are disposed to be melancholick; she herself is one of the most melancholick beasts that is, and to heal her own infirmities, she goes commonly yo sit under that herb, whereupon it has been called in times past Palatius leporis, that is to say, Hares pallayse. 

The Hare naturally knows the change of weather from xxiiij hours to xxiiij hours. 

When she goes to her form, she will not let the dew or wet touch her as near as she can, but follows the highways and beaten paths, and breaks the high stalks as she goes with her teeth. 

Because some Hares by haunting the low watery places become foul and messed, such Hares never follow the hard ways, nor make such paths to their forms, but use all their subtleties and policies by the sides of the rivers, brooks and other waters. And you shall understand the females are not so commonly foul or messed as the males are, and therefore a Huntsman may judge by the relief and feed of the Hare what she is, and which way she forms. 

They go to buck commonly in January, February and March. Sometimes, they seek the buck seven or eight miles distant from the place where they use to sit, following the beaten highways, as be hereafter declared. 

A Buck Hare will abide the hounds nearer him when he sits than the female will, because he feels himself quicker, and his body better disposed and hardier. 

If when a Hare rises out of the form, she set up her ears and run not very fast at the first, and cast up her scut upon her back, it is a token it is an old and crafty Hare. 

Though some say there is no judgement of difference between the male and the female Hares, yet have I found the contrary; for the male Hare or Buck makes his croties always smaller and dryer, and more sharpened towards the end, the female makes them greater and rounder, and not so dry. The cause is that the female relieves not so far out a-nights, and is greater of body, which causes her to make the greater croties also. 

You shall know a Buck as you hunt him to the form, for you shall find he has more beaten the hard highways, and feeds further out into the plains, and makes his doublings and crossings much wider, and of greater compass than the female does, for she will keep close by some covert's side, turning and winding in the bushes like a Coney. If she goes to relief in the cornfields, she will not lightly cross over the furrows, but follow them all along and stays much upon the thickest tufts of corn to feed, neither is she satisfied by feeding her belly full, but shreds the corn and scatters it as she goes. 

Likewise, you may know a Buck at rising out of the form, for he has his hinder parts much more whitely, as if he were grey or downy, or you shall know him if you mark his shoulders well before he rise, for they are redder than a female Hare's be, and will have some loose long hairs growing on them. You may know him by his head, the which is shorter and better trussed than the female's is. The hairs about his lips and cheeks are longer, and commonly his ears shorter, greater and more whitely. The female has a long and lean head, her ears long, the hair upon the chyne of her back blackish grey. 

Commonly, when hounds bunt a female Hare, she will use more crossing, doubling and turning before them, passing seven or eight times one way, and never makes out endways before the hounds. The male does contrary, for if she-hounds run him, and he have once made a turn or two about his form, then farewell hounds . . . for he will lead them sometimes three or four miles endways before he turn the head, and that lightly into some coast where he has been in times past, and from whence he has been chased and hunted. For a Hare will go seven or eight miles endways at once, and you may know when a Hare is so come from far by this means.

When you see your hounds find where a Hare has past at relief upon the highway's sides, and has much doubled and crossed upon a dry places, and never much broken out nor relieved in the corn, it is a token she is but lately come into those quarters; and then commonly, she will stay upon some high place to look about her, and to choose out a place to form in, and also the better to save herself if she perceive either hounds or anything else that follows or meets her. 

Or you may also know because commonly Hares which stray so make their form close, because they are in doubt and dread. When the hounds find them, and put them up, they break abd double, turning back towards their form, because it grieves them to part from it, knowing not the contrary. But when they perceive the hounds hold to them, they return by the same ways they came. 

By these tokens, you may know a Hare is a passenger, which may chance to lead your hounds a lusty dance after her. 

Of the Subtleties of a Hare, when she is run and hunted.

I might well maintain that of all chases, the Hare makes greatest pastime and pleasure, shows most cunning in hunting, and is meetest for gentlemen of all other huntings, for they may find them at all times, and hunt them at most seasons of the year, and that with small charges. Because their pastime shall be always in sight, whereby they may judge the goodness of their hounds without great pains and travail. 

It is great pleasure to behold the subtlety of the little poor beast, and when shift she can make for herself. Wherefore, the Huntsman must be wary and wise to mark her subtleties, the which I have predicted much, and therefore I am the bolder to set down in writing such, as I have seen, known, and made.

First, the Huntsman who shall be next the hounds shall look and mark anything when the Hare rises out of her form. At first, what weather it is, for if it be rainy weather, then the Hare will hold the highways more than at any other time. 

If she come to the side of any young spring or grive, she will not lightly go in, but will convey herself, and squat under the side thereof, until the hounds have overshot her; then, she will return the self-same way she came unto the place where she was start or put up, for she will not willingly go into any covert, because of the dew and wet that hangs upon the low twigs. In such a case, the Huntsman shall do well to tarry and stay a hundred paces before he come to the wood's sides, and then he shall see her if she come right back as before said. Then may he halloo in his hounds and call them back, for else it would be hard to make it out. 

When a Hare does so as beforesaid, because a hound will scarcely believe the Hare were gone directly backwards, therefore the Huntsman shall do well to halloo them in before they go any further, for else they will rather judge it to be the counter as she came first. 

Next to this, a Huntsman must mark in what place the Hare sits, and upon what wind she made her form. For if she form either upon the north wind or upon the south wind, she will not willingly run into the wind, but will run upon a side wind, or else down the wind; also, if a Hare forms in the water, it is a token she is foul and messed. In hunting such a Hare, let the Huntsman take good heed all the day unto the brook's sides, for such a Hare will make all her crossings, doublings &c. upon brook's sides and plashes.

A Huntsmanmust mark whether it be a Buck Hare or a female, and whether she be wonted to the place where she sat or a passenger, the which he may know by such observations as I have before rehearsed, for doubless a Hare which is bred and wonted to a certain place, and especially a female Hare - if a Huntsmen mark the first way she bends, or the first compass she bends, or the first compass she bends when she parts first from the form - will all the day long hold the same ways, and cast about the same coasts, and pass through the same muses until her death or escape, unless it be as I said some Buck which be come from some other place, or that the hounds run him so hard, he be enforced to make out endways before the hounds, and so to go out of his haunt, the which they will all do commonly by that time they be wel run two hours without default. But at the first, they will do - in manner - nothing else but turn, cross and double, passing five or six times one way, and in one self-same path. 

You must understand if you lose a Hare at any time, let the Huntsmen yet remember and amrk which pathes she beat, and what way she coasted; for another time, if you find the same Hare, she will doubtless keep the same places, and make the like doublings, crossings &c. By that means, you shall prevent her subtlety, and much help the hounds in knowing which way she will bend. 

I have seen a Hare so crafty that as soon as she heard the sound of a horn, she would rise out of her form, yea, had she been formed a quarter of a mile distant from the Huntsman that blew, and would straightways go swim in some pool and abide in the medst thereof upon some rushbed, before the hounds came at her, or hunted her at all. But at the last, I discovered her subtleties, for I went close alongst by the pool to see what might become of her, and uncoupled my hounds thereabouts where I suspected she should be; and as soon as ever she heard the horn, she started and leapt before my face into the pool, and swam to another bed in the midst thereof, and neither with stone nor clod I could throw at her, would she rise nor stir until I was fain to strip off my clothes and swim to her; yea, and she tarried me almost, until I laid my hand upon her, before she would stir. But at the last, she swam out and came by the hounds, and stood up afterwards three hours before we could kill her, swimming and using all her crossing and subtleties in the water. 

I have also seen a Hare run and stand up two hours before a kennel of hounds, and then she has started and raised another fresh Hare out of her form, and set herself down therein. I have seen another again swim over two or three waters, the least whereof has been four score tailor's yards over. 

I have seen some again which being run well by the space of two hours or more, has crept under the door of a sheepcote, and hid herself among the sheep. And I have seen Hares oftentimes run into a flock of sheep in the field when they were hunted, and would never leave the flock, until I was forced to couple up my hounds, and fold up the sheep, or sometimes drive them to the cote, and then the Hare would forsake them, and I uncoupled my hounds at her again, and killed her.

I have seen that would take the ground like a Coney - which is called going to the vault - when they have been hunted. I have seen a Hare go up by one side of a hedge, and come down by that other side, in such sort, that there was no more, but the thickness of the hedge between them. I have seen a Hare being sore run, get up upon an old wall, six foot high from the ground, and squat or hide herself in the hole that was made for a scaffold. I have seen some swim over a brook eight yerds broad, more than twenty times within the length of a hundred paces, and that in my sight. Some have swum over rivers twelve score broad as Serven or Trent, and suchlike divers times together. 

For these causes, the Huntsman must be wary and circumspect in hunting of the Hare, for a hound which is a perfect good harer may be bold to hunt any chase; the Hare is the very proper beast to enter hounds well, and to make them tender nosed. But afterwards when you would make your hounds to the Hart, they will quickly forsake the Hare, because the venison of a Hart is much more delicate and dainty than the Hare's is, and hounds much more desire it, because the Hart is also of greater scent than the Hare. 

A Hare lies not above seven years at the most, especially the Buck. They are of this property, that if there be a Buck and a female which keep one quarter commonly together, they will never suffer any strange Hare to sit by them, nor to abide near them, unless it be their own young ones. Therefore has it been an old saying, the more you hunt, the more Hares you shall have, because when a Hare is killed, there will soon come others from some other quarter. 

How to enter Young Hounds to the Hare.

First in hunting of the Hare, I would not have you to have about two or three Huntsmen at the most, whereof one shall take charge to rate and beat on such hounds as bide plodding behind, and the other shall make them seek and call about. For if there be many Huntsmen, they shall foyle the traces and footing of the Hare, or at the last will amaze the hounds - with the variety of their voices - when they are at default; a Hare makes sometimes so many doubles, crossings &c. that a hound cannot well tell where he is, nor which way to make it out, nor will do anything else - in manner - but hold up their heads, and look to the Huntsmen for help and comfort. Then, let the Huntsmen cast about a comapss, where they came first at default, and encourage them, the which he cannot so well do if the other Huntsmen have beaten and foyled the trace with their feet, or the feet of their horses. 

He who hunts foremost should carry with him a good big wallet of linen cloth full of dainty morsels to give his hounds, to the end they may know him; for above all things, it is meet a hound should know his Master and Huntsman his voice and his horn, and then when it comes to the halloo, they will sooner come in to his voice, than to another man's, and will leave all others to come unto him. Therefore, he should never halloo them amiss, nor without good cause. If he would have his hounds come in to him to make them go into some grove or covert, let him halloo thus, crying Here haw! here, haw, haw! And when the hounds are come in to him, let him seek some fair muse or gap to pass in at, and there let him cast a crust of bread, or somewhat to make them go in the more willingly, crying Covert! covert! hyke in hyke! &c.

Here I will discover unto you two secrets, whereof one is that he who has a kennel of young hounds to enter, he must mark well the country where he will make them their first quarry, and whereof he will make it. For according to the places where they shall be entered at the beginning, and according to the quarry which you shall give them, they will always afterwards prove.

And therefore if at the first when you enter young hounds, you accustom them to be uncoupled in the plain champagne, and that they hunt there a Hare to the form and start her, they will remember it all their life after, and then whensoever you uncouple them in a covert, they will make no great haste to hunt there, but will seek to hunt out into the plains, and such places as they have been accustomedto hunting of the Hare. Even so will they best love the coverts, if they be first entered there, and have found gain therein, and therefore it is requisite to enter your hounds in the country, where you mean to abide and to hunt most commonly; for hounds once accustomed to a place or kind of chase will not willingly hunt otherwise. 

Another secret is that you never enter nor accustom your hounds at first to hunt in the mornings, because of the dew and moisture of the earth, for if you once enter and accustom them to hunt in the fresh mornings, if afterwards you bring them on field in the heat of the day, and that they once feel the heat of the Sun, or some dry wind which has drawn up the moist dew from the ground, they will neither hunt nor call on willingly, but will run to seek the shadow, and there to rest them and sleep. Therefore I hold it best to accustom your hounds to be entered and hunted withal, in the height and heat of the day, rather than in the morning. 

The best season to begin to enter your young hounds is in October and November, for then the time is temperate, and the heats are not vehement, and then also young Hares which have not been hunted are foolish and are neither of force nor capacity to use such subtleties and poilicies, but hold on endways before the hounds most commonly, and do squat and start again oftentimes, the which much more encourage the hounds, and much better enter them than if they should flee into another quarter far before them. 

True it is and a thing often proved, that a Hare has greater scent and is more eagerly hunted by the hounds, when she feeds and relieves upon green corn, that at any other time of the year. And yet also you have some Hares, which naturally give some of them greater scent than some others, and are much more eagerly hunted and chased by the hounds, as these great Wood Hares, and such as are foul and messed, and keep near to the waters. But the little Red Hare, which is - in manner - like a Coney of bigness is neither of so strong scent nor yet are so eagerly hunted by the hounds as other Hares be. Such as feed upon the small branches of eild thyme or suchlike herbs are commonly very swift, and will stand long up before the hounds.

So have you some Hares more subtle and crafty than some others are, especially the females, for they double and turn shorter than the Bucks do, and that pleases the hounds but a little and eager to turn so often because they like better a chase which flees before them endways, that they may run with all their force. For such Hares as double and cross so often, it is requisite at default to cast the greater compass about when you beat to make it out. For so shall you find all her subtleties, and yet need to  stick upon none of them, but only where she went onwards, for so doing you shall abate the Hare's force, and constrain her to leave doubling and crossing. Some Hares will hold the high beaten ways only, where the hounds can have no scent, because there is neither bough, leaf nor any moist place wherewith the Hare might leave scent of her body, the which she must needs leave if it were in woods, corn, high grass, or such other moist and cool places. 

Therefore, when a Huntsman shall find such a hare, and shall see his hounds at default upon a highway, let him hunt on with his hounds still all alongst the way, until he find where the Hare has broken from the way, or until he find some small dale or fresh place by the way where the hounds may find scent. he himself also must look narrowly upon the ground, as he goes if he can find the footing of the Hare - which we call pricking - the which he shall easily know, for the fashion of a Hare's foot is sharp, and made like a knife's point and her little nails do always fasten upon the ground, so that he shall see the pricks of them in any moist place, or where the ground is soft, for a Hare when she flees before the hounds, never opens her foot nor nails in sunder, as stinking chases and vermin do, but keeps her foot always close like the point of a knife. 

So is there also certain places and seasons in the which a hound can have no scent of a Hare, as in the winter season in the plain champagne countries, where the ground is fat and rotten, and the Hare - having a hairy foot - when she flees, the uppermost of the earth and ground sicks upon the sole of her foot, so that she carries it away all the scent from the hounds, and again in such plains there are commonly no branches nor twigs which she might touch with her body, and so leave sent thereby. Again, there are certain months in the which a hound shall have no scent - or very little - of a Hare, as in the springtime by reason of the vehement smell of the sweet flowers and herbs, which exceed the scent of a Hare. Likewise, you must take heed that you hunt not in a hard frost, for so your hounds shall surbayt their feet and lose their claws, and yet at that season a Hare runs better than at any other, because the ole of her feet is hairy. 

You shall use in manner the same terms and words to encourage your harers, that you use to encourage yout Buckhounds, and such as you hunt any Deer withal, saving only at the  halloo to a Hare you say, Haw, haw, haw, here! haw here! &c.whereas in hallowing of a Deer you say when the hounds come in, That's he! that's he! to him! to him! &c. 

Again, remember that whensoever you enter your young hounds,you never help them to kill the Hare with your Greyhounds, for if you accustom to course the Hare with your Greyhounds before the hounds, then whensoever you should halloo, the hounds would do nothing but lift up their heads, and look always to see the Hare before the Greyhounds, and will never put nose to the ground, nor beat for it, nor hunt. But your best entering of young hounds is by the help of old staunch hounds, which may best learn to cast for it at a doubling or default. 

At what time of the year it is best hunting of the Hare, and how to seek her, start her, and chase her. 

The best season to hunt the Hare with hounds is to begin in the midst of September, and to leave at mid-April, and that because of the flowers and vehement heat which begin after April, and take away the scent of the Hare from the hounds. Then, in September the Huntsman shall begin to give rewards unto his harers, and to renew their hunting of that chase, for - as I have said - at that time, Hares be young and feeble, and as the season passes, so their force increases. Even so, your hounds the more they hunt, and the more quarries they have, the better, stronger and perfecter they become. Again, when winter approaches, the moistness and coolness of the earth increases, the which hounds delight in rather than great heat. 

When your hounds are two years old and upwards, you may hunt with them thrice in a week, and they will be the better. When a Lord or Gentleman will go hunting, the Huntsman must regard the time and place where he shall be, to the end he may go seek the Hare where most likely hunting is, as in the pastures, meads or green fields, and suchlike. There he shall uncouple his hounds, and if there be any hound which light upon the trail of a Hare, where she has relieved that night, let the Huntsman stay and bee not over hasty, until the hounds make it out for themselves; when he perceives they begin to draw together and to call on freshly, let him comfort them with words, and name that hound which hunts best, as to say Hyke a Fyndall! hyke, &c.

It is most certain hounds will have better scent of a Hare when she goes towards the relief, than when she goes towards her form, yea, although she go sooner to the one than to the other. The reason is, when a Hare is in the field and relieves, she couches low upon the ground with her body, and passes oftentimes over one plot of ground to seek good feed, whereby she leaves great scent of her upon the grass or blades, and croties also sometimes; therefore, the hounds have greater scent of her than they have when she goes out of the field - or out of the corn or high grass at least - to go to her form, for when she goes to her form, she commonly beats the highways - as beforesaid - doubling, crossing and leaping as lightly as she can. Therefore, when the Huntsman sees his hounds cross where a Hare has relieved, and that they begin also to make it on to her going out towards her form, let him suffer his hounds to hunt fair and softly, and hasten them not overmuch for overshooting of it. If his hounds fall at default, then is it token the Hare has made some double or some cross, or she has gone and come back again by oneself same way; then shall he cry, Haw again! again here! haw! and shall not stir any further forwards, for if he come too near the hounds, it would rather make them to overshoot it, but let him so stay them and make them beat for it, comforting and cheering them with words and with his voice, beholding how they hunt and beat for it.

But if they cannot make it out upon the highways, let him cast round about in the freshest and greenest places, and such as are most commodious for the hounds to take scent upon, for by that means at last he shall make it out which way the Hare is gone into some grove or spring, and then his hounds may also beat the groves, and he himself must likewise beat the tufts and bushes with his hunting stick, to help the hounds to start her. If he chance to find an old form, he must take some reward out of his wallet and cast it in the said old form, and call in the hounds into it, crying, Here! haw! here she sat! here she sat! to her again!

The Huntsman shall do well also to have a piece of the fat of bacon or suchlike thing in his wallet, wherewith he may anoint the end of his hunting staff, and then whensoever he would point his hounds to a mews, or to any place, he shall need to do no more but strike on the ground with the end of his staff, and his hounds will go through the mews, or come into any place where he shall point them, and hunt it much the better; but if the Huntsman when he has cast about not find the Hare is gone out beyond the compass he cast, let him call back his hounds, and let him consider which way it seems the Hare bent her head when she came into that way or place, and if she held on head. Then, let him beat with his hounds still onwards on both sides of the way, for oftentimes the Hare follows the highways very far, to double, cross and use policies, and will never step from the way in a mile together. In such places, the hounds can have no scent, by reason of the dust and other such things as I have before alleged; and yet they will squat upon the outsides of the ways, or very near them, and therefore let the Huntsman beat the sides of the highways well.

But if all these policies cannot help the hounds to make it out, then may the Huntsman well judge the Hare has turned backwards upon the hounds, and let him take his compass greater and beat back with his hounds, and it shall hardly be possible but at the last he must make it out. Yet some Hares there be that will sit until you tread upon them before they will rise, and some will be taken in the form. 

Now, although I have so much spoken in praise of trailing a Hare from the relief to the form, yet methinks it is more pain than needs, and less pleasure than might be desired, because the hounds, while they trail, call but coldly one after another, and that it should be much shorter and better pastime to seek and find her as follows. 

When three good Huntsmen are met, and perceive their hounds find where a Hare has relieved in some fair cornfield or pasture, then must they consider the season of the year and what weather it is; for if it be in the springtime or in the summer, a Hare will not sit in the bushes, because these pismires, ticks and sometimes snakes and adders will drive them out. Then they are constrained to sit in the cornfields or fallow fields and open places. In winter, they love to sit near the town's sides in some tuft of brambles or thorns, especially when the wind is either southerly or northerly, for they fear both those winds also exceedingly. Then, according to the season and place where the Hare shall wont to sit, they shall beat with their hounds to start her at the first, and using that means, they shall find more Hares, and have shorter sport than in trailing after them as beforesaid; they may so enter their hounds and accustom them, that as soon as they begin to beat the bushes with their hunting sticks, the hounds will in and strive who may first get in, like Spaniels at retreif of a Partridge. 

When the Hare is start and on foot, let the Huntsman go where he saw her pass, and halloo all the hounds until they have all undertaken it, and go on with it in full cry. Let them rechat them with his horn, and comfort them every way he can best devise, and when he perceives they are in full cry, let him follow fair and easily, not making over much haste at first, nor making too much noise either with horn or voice, for at the first the hounds will easily overshoot a chase through too much heat; and therefore, if the Huntsman overlay them, he should bbut chaff them more, which might cause them both to overshoot it and to lose it. But when they have run the space of an hour, and they are well in with it and stick well upon it, then may the Huntsman come in nearer his hounds, because by that time their heat will be well cooled, and they will hunt soberly. Above all things, let him mark the first doubling the Hare makes, as I have before said, and thereby he may govern himself all the day, for all the rest she will make will be like unto it, and according to the policies he shall see her use, and the place where he hunts, he must make his compass great or little, long or short, to help the defaults, always seeking the moistest and most commodious places for the hounds to scent. 

There are two manners of hunting the Hare, for some floow and never halloo before a Hare, nor after her, nor never help hounds at default, and methinks this is a noble kind of hunting, and best show and prove the goodness of the hounds. Others again mark which way a Hare bends at the first, and coast before her to meet her, and there halloo amayne, and help the hounds also at defaults as much as they can. When hounds are hunted with in this sort, they become so light of belief many times they leave the right track to go into the halloo, and by that means the Hares can stand up but a while before them, and surely he that would hunt to kill many Hares, should do best to hunt this kind of way, but to try the good hunting of hounds, I do more praise that other way, which hunts only upon the foot and scent; but this latter way is speedy, and best countervails the subtleties of a Hare. 

I could have stood longer in describing the means how to breathe and enter harers, but because I have both spoken sufficiently in the hunting of a Hart, and also in these chapters before which treat of the policies and subtleties that Hares use, whereby a Huntsman may find precepts sufficient to govern himself, therefore I will now say no more of that point.

How you shall reward your Hounds when they have killed a Hare, which the Frenchman called the reward, and sometimes the quarry, but our old Tristram calls it the halloo.

When your hounds have killed the Hare, let the Varlet of your kennel, cut down some pretty bending wands of a hazel or some such tree, and then let him take the Hare and lay her in some fair place upon the grass. Then, let the Huntsman alight from his horse, and blow the death, to call in all the hounds; that done, the Varlet of the kennel shall keep off the hounds with those little wands, and let them all bay about him. The Huntsman shall clap and stroke his best hounds on the sides, and show them the Hare, saying, Dead boys! dead!

Then, let him hulk her - which is to open her and take out her garbage - and afterwards strip off her skin before the hounds, taking away the gall, the lights and the skin, the which he shall hang up in some tree where the hounds may not eat them, for they will make them sick. 

When the Hare is thus hulked and stripped out of her skin, let the Huntsman take out of his wallet some bread, cheese and other small morsels, and put them into the bulk of the Hare, to wet and moisten them with her blood; then shall he cut off the forepart of the Hare, head and all, and yet if he have any young hound which is fearful, let him give him the Hare's head by himself, for to encourage him the better. 

Then must the Varlet of the kennel tie a cord to the forequarters of the Hare in five or six places, that one dog may not tear away all at a mouthful, and so beguile all his fellows. Afterwards, let him  hide it, and take his staff and go a hundred paces from the rest; in meanwhile, the Huntsman shall ppour out the reward of bread and cheese upon the cleanest place of grass he can find, and shall yet keep off the hounds with his hunting wand. This being done, he sall blow that all the hounds may come in together, and shall suffer them to eat this reward, clapping them upon the sides, comforting them and blowing his horn.

Meanwhile, when they have almost done, he shall make sign to the Varlet of the kennel, who shall halloo and blow for the hounds; then, the Huntsman shall rate them and beat them to him, saying, List halloo! hyke, halloo, hyke! Then the Varlet shall show them the Hare holding it as high as he can, and holding his cord always fast by the end, and when all the hounds be about him, he shall cast it among them, and suffer them to tear it by piecemeal out of the cord, and then carry them to the water before he couple them up again, or rather let him carry them home uncoupled, that they may scour at large and skommer, for a hound will be inclined to be sickly when he has eaten of a Hare's flesh. Therefore, let him give them bread after they have eaten the reward, to close up their stomachs withal, and lest they should cast it up again.

The Hare to the Hunter. 

Are minds of men become so void of sense,
That they can joy to hurt a harmless thing?
A silly beast, which cannot make defence?
A wretch, a worm that cannot bite, nor sting?
If that be so, thank my Master then
For making me, a beast and not a man.

The Lion licks the sores of wounded Sheep,
He spares to pray, which yields and carves grace;
The dead man's corpse has made some Serpents weep,
Such rue may rise in beasts of bloody race;
And yet can Man - who brags about the rest - 
Use wrack for rue? Can murder like him best?

This song I sing, in moan and mournful notes
- Which fain would blaze the bloody mind of Man - 
Who not content with Harts, Hinds, Bucks, Roes, Goats,
Boars, Bears and all, that hunting conquer can,
Must yet seek out me, silly harmless Hare,
To hunt with hounds, and course sometimes with care.

The Hart hurts - I must a truth confess - 
He spoils corn, and bears the hedge a-down;
So does the Buck, and though the Roe seem less,
Yet does he harm in many a field and town; 
The climbing Goat pills both plant and vine,
The pleasant meads are rooted up with Swine.

But I, poor beast, whose feeding is not seen,
Who break no hedge, nor pill no pleasant plant, 
Who spoil no corn to make the Plowman want,
Am yet pursued with hound, horse, might and main,
By murdering men, until they have me slain.

Sa how! says one, as soon as he me spies,
Another cries Now! Now! that sees me start,
The hounds call on, with hideous noise and cries,
The spur-galled Jade must gallop out his part;
The horn is blown, and many a voice full shrill,
Do whoop and cry, me wretched beast to kill.

What means thou Man, me so for to pursue?
For first my skin is scarcely worth a plack,
My flesh is dry, and hard for to endew,
My grease - God knows - not great upon my back,
Myself and all that is within me found,
Is neither good, great, rich, fat, sweet nor sound.

So that thou show thy vanities to be but vain,
That brags of wit, above all other beasts,
And yet by me, thou neither gets gain
Nor finds food, to serve thy glutton's feasts;
Some sport perhaps, yet grievous is the glee
Which ends in blood, that lesson learn of me.