The noble arte of venerie or hunting VVherein is handled and set out the vertues, nature, and properties of fiutene sundrie chaces togither, with the order and maner how to hunte and kill euery one of them. Translated and collected for the pleasure of all noblemen and gentlemen, out of the best approued authors, which haue written any thing concerning the same: and reduced into such order and proper termes as are vsed here, in this noble realme of England. The contentes vvhereof shall more playnely appeare in the page next followyng.

Howe to rewarde the houndes, and fyrst the bloud hound. Chap. 43. (Book 43)

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THe houndes shall be rewarded in this maner. First let the bloude houndes be present when you breake vp the Deare, that they may see him broken vp, and let them be tyed or made fast to some tree or bough, so farre one from ano∣ther that they fight not. Then the huntsman which harbored the Harte, shall take the cabaging of the heade, and the heart of the Deare to reward his bloud hound first, fór that honor pertaineth

to him: when he hath done, he shall deliuer it to the rest, that they may likewise rewarde theirs: that done they shal syt downe and drinke, whiles the Uarlets of the kennell prepare the rewarde for their houndes, and that maye be made in two sortes. Firste some vse immediately assone as the Hart is deade, (the huntsi•…•…ē hauing blowne to assemble the rest vnto his fall) to alight from their horses, and take off the Deare skinne from his necke whilst it is hote, and when they haue well skotd•…•…d it with their wood∣kniues, that the houndes may the more easily teare off the fleshe, they rewarde the houndes with that and the braynes all hote and bleeding: and surely those rewardes are much better than others which are giuen afterwardes colde when they come home, and will much better flesh and encourage the hounds. But the re∣wards which are made at home (which are called cold rewards) are thus giuen. The varlets of the ken•…•…ell take bread, and cut it into gobbets into a pan, cutting cheese likewise in gobbets with it: then take they the blud of y^• deare, and sprinkle it vpō the bread and cheese, vntill the breade and cheese be all bloudy: and then they take a great bolle of mylke warme, and mingle it altoge∣ther. Afterwardes they shall spread the skynne vpon the ground in some faire place, and put out this reward vpon it. Remem∣ber that you let it not abyde long in the pan, for then the milke will turne and be sowre. When it is thus prepared, put the caba∣ging of the heade in the midst amongst it, and haue a payle or tub of fresh water in a readinesse neare to the reward, to let your houndes lappe in when they are rewarded. Then you shall set the head vpon a staffe (which must be smothe and cleane for hur∣ting of the houndes) and let one of the Uarlets carie it an hun∣breth paces from you. Then the Prince or chiefe shall begin to blow and to hallow for the hounds, bicause that honor with all others appertaine vnto y^e Prince or chief personage. And if he or •…•…e ca not or wil not do it thēselues, let thē appoint who shal do it as for their honor. Afterwards all the huntsmen shal take their hornes and blowe, and hallowe to the houndes to reioyce them. In this meane while the Uarlet of the kennell shall stande 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the rewarde with twoo wandes (in eache hande one)

•…•…o keepe the houndes backe vntill they be all come about •…•…nd when they are all baying and calling on about him, l•…•… •…•…nd from the rewarde, and suffer the houndes to eate it. •…•…n they haue almost eaten it vp, let him whiche hold •…•…res heade, hallowe and crye, Heere againe boyes, h•…•… •…•…haw, haw. &c. Then the Uarlets of the kennel which stand •…•…he reward, must rate away the houndes, and make them •…•…m that halloweth. Then he shall shewe them the heade •…•…e Deare, lifting it vp and downe before them to make 〈◊〉〈◊〉 baye it: and when he hath drawne them al about him bayi•…•… shall cast downe the heade amongst them that they may•…•… their pleasure thereon. Then shall he leade them backe a•…•… to the skynne, and turne the skynne vpon them (being cold then kennell them vp. Consider that it shall be best to k•…•… them immediately, for else if they should runne about an uell, it would make them cast vp their rewarde againe. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 warde being thus giuen and fynished, the Uarlet and may go to drinke.

An aduertisement by the Translato•…•… of the Englishe manner, in breakin•…•… vp of the Deare.

IN describing this order howe to breake vp a Deare obserued the duetie of a faythfull translatour, nothi•…•… chaunging the wordes of myne Authoure, but suffering 〈◊〉〈◊〉 proceede in the Frenche maner. But bycause I finde it differe•…•… from our order in some poyntes, therefore I haue thought good here to set downe such obseruations of difference as I haue no∣ted therein, least the reader mighte be drawne in opinion, that the errour proceeded only in my default.

First where he appoynteth the Deares foote to be cutte off, and to bee presented to the Prince or chiefe, oure order is,

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that the Prince or chiete (it •…•…o plea•…•…e them) doe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and take assaye of the Deare with a sharpe knyfe, the whiche is done

in this maner. The deare being layd vpon his backe, the Prince, chiefe, or such as they shall appoint, cōmes to it: And the chiefe huntsman (kneeling, if it be to a Prince) doth holde the Deare by the forefoote, whiles the Prince or chief, cut a slyt drawn alongst the brysket of the deare, somewhat lower than the brysket to∣wards the belly. This is done to see the goodnesse of the flesh, and howe thicke it is.

This being done, we vse to cut off the Deares heade. And that is commonly done also by the chiefe personage. For they take delight to cut off his heade with their woodknyues, skaynes, or swordes, to trye their edge, and the goodnesse or strength of their arme. If it be cut off to rewarde the houndes withall, then the whole necke (or very neare) is cut off with it: otherwise it is cut off neare to the head. And then the heade is cabaged (which is to say) it is cut close by the hornes through the braine pan, vntill you come vnderneath the eyes, and ther it is cut off. The piece which is cut from the hornes (together with the braines) are to rewarde the houndes. That other piece is to nayle vp the hornes by, for a memoriall, if he were a great Deare of heade.

As for the deintie morsels which mine Author speaketh off for Princes, our vse (as farre as euer I could see) is to take the caul•…•…, the tong, the eares, the doulcets, the tenderlings (if his heade be tender) and the sweete gut, which some call the Inchpinne, in a faire handkercher altogether, for the Prince or chiefe.

It must be remembred (which he leaueth out) that the feete be all foure left on. The hynder feete must be to fasten (or hardle as some hunters call it) the hanches to the sydes, and the two fore∣feete are left to hang vp the shoulders by.

We vse some ceremonie in taking out the shoulder. For first he which taketh it out, cuts the thinne skin of the flesh (when the Deares skinne is taken off) round about the legge, a little aboue the elbowe ioynt. And there he rayseth out the synew or muskle with his knife, and putteth his forefinger of his left hand, through vnder the sayd muskle to hold the legge by. If afterwardes he touch the shoulder or any part of the legge, with any other thing than his knyfe, vntill he haue taken it out, it is a forfayture, and

he is thought to be no handsome woodman. Then with his shoulder knyfe he cuts an hole •…•…etweene the legge and the brys∣ket, and there puts in his knife, and looseneth the shoulder from the syde, going about with his knyfe, near•…•… to the outside of the skynne, vntill he haue quyte taken out the shoulder, and yet lefte the skynne of the syde fayre and whole. And if he doe it not at three boutes, it is also a forfeyture.

We vse not to take away the brysket bone, as farre as euer I coulde see, but clyue the sydes one from another, directly from the place of assay, vnto the throate. There is a litle gristle which is vpon the spoone of the brysket, which we cal the Rauens bone, bycause it is cast vp to the Crowes or Rauens whiche attende hunters. And I haue seene in some places, a Rauen so wont and accustomed to it, that she would neuer sayle to croake and crye for it, all the while you were in breaking vp of the Deare, and would not depart vntill she had it. Furthermore, we vse not to take the heart from the noombles, but account it a principall part thereof. And about the winding vp of the noombles, there is also some arte to be shewed: But by all likelyhoode, they vse it not in Fraunce as we do.

Also I can not perceiue by myne Authors wordes that they make any Arboure, which if they doe not, they may chaunce to breake vp their Deare but homely somtimes. But if they cut a∣way the brisket bone, thē it is the lesse requisite, bicause they may come at the weasond, and conuey it away easily. We vse to re∣warde our houndes with the paunche, being emptied first. These things of my selfe I haue thought good to adde, desiring the reader to take them in good parte.

The wofull wordes of the Hart to the Hunter.

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SInce I in deepest dread, do yelde my selfe to Man, And stand full still betwene his legs, which earst full wildly ran: Since I to him appeale, when hounds pursue me sore, As who should say (Now saue me man, for else I may no more.) Why dost thou then (ô Man) (ô Hunter) me pursue, With cry of hounds, with blast of horne, with hallow, and with hue? Or why dost thou deuise, such nets and instruments, Such toyles & toyes, as hunters vse, to bring me to their bents?

Since I (as earst was say•…•…) do so with humble cheare, Holde downe my head (as who should say, lo Man I yeelde me here.) Why arte thou not content, (ô murdryng cruell minde) Thy selfe alone to hunte me so, which arte my foe by kynde, But that thou must enstruct, with wordes in skilfull writte, All other men to hunte me eke? O wicked wylie witte. Thou here hast set to shew, within this busie booke, A looking Glasse of lessons lewde, wherein all Huntes may looke: And so whyles world doth last, they may be taught to bryng, The harmelesse Hart vnto his bane, with many a wilye thing. Is it bycause thy minde, doth seeke thereby some gaynes? Canst thou in death take suche delight? breedes pleasure so in paynes? Oh cruell, be content, to take in worth my teares, Whiche growe to gumme, and fall from me: content thee with my heares, Content thee with my hornes, which euery yeare I mew, Since all these three make medicines, some sicknesse to eschew. My teares congeald to gumme, by peeces from me fall, And thee preserue from Pestilence, in Pomander or Ball. Such wholesome teares shedde I, when thou pursewest me so, Thou (not content) doest seeke my death, and then thou getst no moe. My heare is medicine burnt, all venemous wormes to kill, The Snake hirselfe will yeeld thereto, such was my makers will. My hornes (whiche aye renew) as many medicines make As there be Troches on their Toppes, and all (Man) for thy sake. As first they heale the head, from turning of the brayne, A dramme thereof in powder drunke, doth quickly ease the payne: They skinne a kybed heele, they fret an anguayle off, •…•…o thus I skippe from toppe to toe, yet neyther scorne nor skoffe. They comfort Feeuers faynte, and lingryng long disease, Distilld when they be tender buddes, they sundry greeues appease: They mayster and correct, both humours, hote and colde, Which striue to conquere bloud: and breede, diseases manyfold. They bryng downe womens termes, and stoppe them to, for neede, They keepe the meane tweene both extreemes, & serue bothe turnes in deede: They cleare the dimmie sight, they kill both webbe and pinne, They soone restore the milt or spleene, which putrifies within.

T•…•…ey ease an akyng Tooth, they breake the rumblyng winde, W•…•…ich grypes the wombe with colliq•…•…es panges, such is their noble kinde: They 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the skaldyng fire, which skorched with his heate, And skinne the skalt full 〈◊〉〈◊〉 agayne, and heale it trimme and neate. They poyson do expell, from Keysar, King, or Queene, When it by chaunce or deepe deceypt, is swallowed vp vnseene. But wherefore spend I time in vayne at large to prayse, The vertues of my harmelesse hor•…•…tes, which heape my harme alwayes? And yet such hornes, such heare, such teares as I haue tolde, I mew and cast for mans auayle, more worth to him than golde. But he to quyte the same, (ô Murdring Man therewhyles) Pursewes me still and trappes me ofte, with sundrie snares and guyles. Alas lo now I feele colde feare within my bones, Whiche hangs hyr winges vpon my heeles, to hasten for the nones My swiftest starting steppes, me thinkes she biddes me byde, In thickest Tuftes of couerts close, and so my selfe to hyde. Ah rewfull remedie, so shall I (as it were) Euen teare my lyfe out of the teeth of houndes whiche make me feare. And from those cruell curres, and braynesicke bauling Tikes, Which vowe foote hote to followe me, bothe ouer hedge and dykes. Me thinkes I heare the Horne, whiche rendes the restlesse ayre, With shryllest sounde of bloudie blast, and makes me to despayre. Me thinkes I see the Toyle, the tanglings and the stall, Which are prepared and set full sure, to compasse me withall: Me thinkes the Foster standes full close in bushe or Tree, And takes his leuell streyght and true, me thinkes he shootes at me. And hittes the harmelesse Harte, of me vnhappie Harte, Which must needes please him by my death, I may it not astarte. •…•…las and well away, me thinkes I see the hunte, Which takes the measure of my Slottes, where I to treade was wont: Bycause I shall not misse, at last to please his minde, Ahlas I see him where he seekes my latest layre to finde. He takes my fewmers vp, and puts them in his horne, Alas me thinkes he leapes for ioye, and laugheth me to scorne. Harke, harke, alas giue eare, This geare goeth well (sayeth he) This Harte beares deyntie venison, in Princes dishe to be.

Lo now he blowes his horne, euen at the kennell dore, Alas, alas, he blowes a seeke, alas yet blowes he more: He ieopardes and rechates, ahlas he blowes the Fall, And foundes that deadly dolefull Mote, whiche I muste die withall. What should the cruell meane? perhappes he hopes to finde, As many medicines me within to satisfie his minde. May be) he seekes to haue my Sewet for himselfe, Whiche sooner heales a merrygald, then Pothecaries pelfe. (May be) his ioyntes be numme, as Synewes shronke with colde, And that he knowes my Sewet wyll, the same full soone vnfolde. (May be) his wife doth feare to come before byr time, And in my mawe he hopes to finde, (amongst the slutte and slime) A Stone to help his wife, that she may bryng to light, A bloudie babe lyke bloudie Syre, to put poore Hartes to flight: Perchance with sicknesse he hath troubled bene of late, And with my marow thinketh to restore his former state. (May be) his hart doth quake, and therefore seekes the bone, Whiche Huntesmen finde within my heart, when I poore Hart) am gone. (It may be) that he meanes my fleshe for to present, Unto his Prince for delicates, such may be his entent. Yea more than this (may be), he thinkes such nouriture, Will still prolong mens dayes on earth, since mine so long endure. But oh mischieuous man, although I thee outliue, By due degrees of age vnseene, whiche Nature doth me giue: Must thou therefore procure my death? for to prolong Thy lingryng life in lustie wise? alas thou doest me wrong. Must I with mine owne fleshe, his hatefull fleshe so feede, Whiche me disdaynes one bitte of grasse, or corne in tyme of neede? Alas (Man) do not so, some other beastes go kill, Whiche worke thy harme by sundrie meanes: and so content thy will. Which yeelde thee no such gaynes, (in lyfe) as I renew, When from my head my stately hornes, (to thy bchoofe) I mew. But since thou arte vnkinde, vngracious and vniust, Lo here I craue of mightie Gods, whiche are bothe good and iust: That Mars may reygne with Man, that stryfe and cruell warre, May set mans murdryng minde on worke, with many a bloudy 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

That drummes with deadly dub, may counteruayle the blast, Which they with hornes haue blowen ful lowde, to make my minde agast. That shot as thicke as Hayle, may stande for Crossebowe shootes, That Cuysses, Greues, and suche may serue, in steade of Hunters bootes. That gyrte with slege full sure, they may theyr toyles repent, That Embuskadoes stand for nettes, which they agaynst me bent. That when they see a spi•…•…, which watcheth them to trappe, They may remember ring walkes made, in herbor me to happe. That when theyr busie braynes, are exercised so, Hartes may lie safe within theyr layre, and neuer feare theyr foe. But if so chaunce there be, some dastard dreadfull mome, Whome Trumpettes cannot well entyse, nor call him once from home: And yet will play the man, in killyng harmelesse Deare, I craue of God that such a ghoste, and such a fearefull pheare, May see Dyana nakt: and she (to venge hir skornes) May soone transforme his harmefull head, into my harmelesse hornes: Untill his houndes may teare, that hart of his in twayne, Which thus torments vs harmelesse Harts, and puttes our hartes to payne.

THus haue you an end of so much as I find meete to be tran∣slated out of mine Author for the Hunting of an Harte: Wherein I haue dealt faithfully for so much as I translated, neyther takyng any thing from him, nor adding any thing but that whiche I haue plainely expressed, together with the reasons that moued me therevnto. And that which I haue left out is no∣thing else but certayne vnseemely verses, which bycause they are more apt for lasciuions miudes, than to be enterlaced amongst the noble termes of Uenerie, I thought meete to leaue them at large, for such as will reade them in French.

An ende of the Huntyng and Termes which are vsed in hunting the Harte.