[12mo. containing pp. 296, not numbered.]
This curious little volume has been noticed by Mr. Haslewood, in the Censura Literaria (vii. 284.) who says, with justice, that a rich vein of humour and amusement runs through it, and that it is the apparent lucubration of a pen able to perform better things. Of the author's name I have been unable to procure the least intelligence.
"THE HORSE (No. 16.)
Is a creature made, as it were, in waxe. When Nature first framed him, she took a secret complacence in her worke. He is even her master-peece in irracionall things, borrowing somewhat of all things to set him forth. For example, his slicke bay coat hee tooke from the chesnut; his necke from the rainbow, which perhaps make him rain so wel. His maine belike he took from Pegasus, making him a hobbie to make this a compleat gennet[DN], which main he weares so curld, much after the women's fashions now adayes; this I am sure of howsoever, it becomes them, [and] it sets forth our gennet well. His legges he borrowed of the hart, with his swiftnesse, which makes him a true courser indeed. The starres in his forehead hee fetcht from heaven, which will not be much mist, there being so many. The little head he hath, broad breast, fat buttocke, and thicke tayle are properly his owne, for he knew not where to get him better. If you tell him of the hornes he wants to make him most compleat, he scornes the motion, and sets them at his heele. He is well shod especially in the upper leather, for as for his soles, they are much at reparation, and often faine to be removed. Nature seems to have spent an apprentiship of yeares to make you such a one, for it is full seven yeares ere hee comes to this perfection, and be fit for the saddle: for then (as we,) it seemes to come to the yeares of discretion, when he will shew a kinde of rationall judgement with him, and if you set an expert rider on his backe, you shall see how sensiblie they will talke together, as master and scholler. When he shall be no sooner mounted and planted in the seat with the reins in one hand, a switch in the other, and speaking with his spurres in the horse's flankes, a language he wel understands, but he shall prance, curvet, and dance the canaries[DO] halfe an houre together in compasse of a bushell, and yet still, as he thinkes, get some ground, shaking the goodly plume on his head with a comely pride. This will our Bucephalus do in the lists: but when hee comes abroad into the fields, hee will play the countrey gentleman as truly, as before the knight in turnament. If the game be up once, and the hounds in chase, you shall see how he will pricke up his eares streight, and tickle at the sport as much as his rider shall, and laugh so loud, that if there be many of them, they will even drowne the rurall harmony of the dogges. When he travels, of all innes he loves best the signe of the silver bell, because likely there he fares best, especially if hee come the first, and get the prize. He carries his eares upright, nor seldome ever lets them fall till they be cropt off, and after that, as in despight, will never weare them more. His taile is so essentiall to him, that if he loose it once hee is no longer an horse, but ever stiled a curtall. To conclude, he is a blade of Vulcan's forging, made for Mars of the best metall, and the post of Fame to carrie her tidings through the world, who, if he knew his own strength, would shrewdly put for the monarchie of our wildernesse."
FOOTNOTES:
[DN] Mr. Steevens, in a note to Othello, explains a jennet to be a Spanish horse; but from the passage just given, I confess it appears to me to mean somewhat more. Perhaps a jennet was a horse kept solely for pleasure, whose mane was suffered to grow to a considerable length, and was then ornamented with platting, &c.—A hobby might answer to what we now term a hogged poney.
[DO] The Canaries is the name of an old dance, freqnently alluded to in our early English plays. Shakspeare uses it in All's well that ends well—
——"I have seen a medicine,
That's able to breathe life into a stone;
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With spritely fire and motion;"
Sir John Hawkins, in his History of Musick, iv. 391. says that it occurs in the opera of Dioclesian, set to music by Purcell, and explains it to be "a very sprightly movement of two reprises, or strains, with eight bars in each: the time three quarters in a bar, the first pointed." I take this opportunity of mentioning, that among Dr. Rawlinson's MSS. in the Bodleian, [Poet. 108.] is a volume which contains a variety of figures of old dances, written, as I conjecture, between the years 1566 and 1580. Besides several others are the pavyan; my Lord of Essex measures; tyntermell; the old allmayne; the longe pavian; quanto dyspayne; the nyne muses, &c. As the pavian is mentioned by Shakspeare, in the Merry Wives of Windsor, and as the directions for dancing the figure have not been before discovered, I shall make no apology for offering them in the present note.
"THE LONGE PAVIAN,