a short nose uprising, and large open nostrels, which shows that he is of a good and quick scent, his ears exceeding large, thin, and down hanging, much lower than his chaps, and the flews of his upper lips almost two inches lower than his nether chaps; which shows a merry deep mouth and a loud ringer, his back strong and straight, yet rather rising, than inwardly yielding, which shows much toughness and endurance.'

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With regard to the other point of the hounds being matched in mouth like bells,' it is clear that in Shakspeare's day the greatest attention was paid to the musical quality of the cry. It was a ruling consideration in the formation of a pack that it should possess the musical fulness and strength of a perfect canine quire. And hounds of good voice were selected and arranged in the hunting chorus on the same general principles that govern the formation of a cathedral or any other more articulate choir. The writer already quoted brings this curious feature fully out; and as the subject has not been illustrated by the commentators, and is in itself of considerable interest, we may venture on a tolerably long extract:

'For sweetnesse of cry.

'If you would have your kennell for sweetnesse of cry, then you must compound it of some large dogges, that have deepe solemne mouthes, and are swift in spending, which must, as it were, beare the base in the consort, then a double number of roaring, and loud ringing mouthes, which must beare the counter tenor, then some hollow, plaine, sweete mouthes, which must beare the meane or middle part; and soe with these three parts of musicke you shall make your cry perfect; and heerein you shall observe that these hounds thus mixt, doe run just and even together, and not hang off loose one from another, which is the wildest sight that may be, and you shall understand that this composition is best to be made of the swiftest and largest deep mouthed dog, the slowest middle siz'd dog, and the shortest leg'd slender dog, amongst these you cast in a couple or two of small singing beagles, which as small trebles may warble amongst them; the cry will be a great deal the more sweeter.

'For loudnesse of cry.

shall

'If you would have your kennell for lowdnes of mouth, you not then choose the hollow deepe mouth, but the loud clanging mouth, which spendeth freely and sharpely, and, as it were, redoubleth in the utterance and if you mix with them the mouth that roareth and the mouth that whineth, the crye will bee both the louder and smarter; and these hounds are for the most part of the middle size, neither extreame tail, nor extreame deepe flewed, such as for the most part your Shropshire and pure Worcestershire dogs are; and the more equally you compound these mouthes, having as many roarers as spenders, and as many whiners as of either of the other, the louder and pleasanter

your crye will be, especially if it be in sounding tall woods, or under the echo of rocks.

For deepnesse of cry.

'If you would have your kennell for depth of mouth, then you shall compound it of the largest dogges, which have the greatest mouthes, the deepest flews, such as your West Countrie, Cheshire, and Lancashire dogges are; and to five or sixe couple of base mouthes, you shall not adde above two couple of counter-tenors, as many meanes, and not above one couple of roarers, which being heard but now and then, as at the opening or hitting of a sent, will give much sweetnesse to the solemnes and gravenesse of the crye, and the musick thereof will bee much more delightfull to the eares of every beholder.'

Next to hunting, hawking was perhaps the most popular field-sport in Shakspeare's day. In many parts of the country, indeed, it was more in vogue, or, at least, more habitually pursued, than hunting itself. Before the land was generally drained, the midland and eastern counties afforded peculiar facilities for the aquatic branch of hawking which was the more exciting kind of sport. The flags of their marshy levels, their reedy hollows, the wooded banks and quiet pools of their winding streams, abounded with aquatic birds, and especially with the crane and the heron, the favourite objects of this princely recreation. The neighbourhood of Stratford itself was peculiarly favourable for aquatic falconry, the broad sweep of the tranquil Avon with its bosky margins and reedy shallows, affording abundant food and inviting shelter for the larger and more important species of waterfowl. And there can be little doubt that Shakspeare in boyhood and youth had often accompanied a brilliant hawking-party, or at a little distance marked the progress of the sport, had seen the falconer spring the kingly heron from his sedgy nest, and followed with eager gaze the fortunes of the nearly-balanced conflict that ensued, had watched in narrowing circles far up the sky the well-trained falcon stoop on her noble quarry until the final swoop put an end to the airy battle. However this may be, Shakspeare is perfectly familiar with the technical terms used in hawking, and his dramas abound with phrases and allusions derived from this source. We shall attempt a few illustrations of these allusions in special reference to words and phrases not as yet clearly understood or accurately explained. The first is one of the many much disputed passages in Measure for Measure.' It occurs in the dialogue between Claudio and Isabella, where the latter reveals the true character of Angelo:

This outward-sainted deputy,

Whose settled visage and deliberate word

Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth emmew
As falcon doth the fowl, is yet a devil;
His filth within being cast, he would appear
A pond as deep as hell.'

Here emmew is a term well known in falconry, the mew being the place where the hawks were kept and tended during the critical period of moulting. So long as this process lasted, while the birds were casting their feathers, they were kept close, mewed up, or emmewed. But in the passage just quoted this sense hardly seems to suit the context. Isabella is obviously describing an active policy of repression on the part of Angelo. During the lax administration of the Duke, youthful vices, being virtually winked at, had been freely indulged in; and follies, fearing no check, had made head in the city until it became needful to awake the slumbering powers of the law, and carry into effect its sterner enactments. The Duke dwells on this necessity in explaining the motives of his conduct :

'Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws,

The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds,-
Which for this fourteen years we have let sleep,
Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave,

That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,
Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight

For terror, not to use, in time the rod

Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees,

Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;

And liberty plucks justice by the nose;

The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.'

Angelo was to strike home, and we know from the earlier scenes of the play that he had at once magnified his temporary office and ridden the body politic with a tight curb and sharpened spur, putting into extreme force the more rigorous penal acts. No doubt his administration of the law would soon strike the evil-doers with terror, and make them for a time quiet enough. But in these early days he was inflicting severe penalties on convicted offenders, and it is to this feature of his policy that Isabella especially refers. Youth must have made some head before it could be nipped; and in the same way it is natural to suppose that follies must have manifested themselves before they could be actually known, or publicly dealt with by the deputy. The word emmew does not express this meaning, and Johnson's explanation of the phrase, forces follies to lie in cover, without daring to show themselves,' seems comparatively weak and inapplicable. From some feeling of this diffi

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culty, probably, Mr. Keightley, in his Shakespeare Expositor,' proposes to read enew, instead of emmew. He does this avowedly on the strength of a single passage which he quotes from Nash's Quaternio. This exemplifies what we have already said about fancied discoveries being often anticipated. Long before we knew of Mr. Keightley's suggestion we had ourselves marked the passage in Nash for the same purpose. After all, however; Mr. Keightley does not really anticipate what we have to say on the subject, as he gives no reason for the proposed change, and does not understand the origin, meaning, and technical use of the verb he substitutes for emmew. The passage in Nash forms part of a glowing description of field sports, and is as follows:

And to heare an Accipitrary relate againe how he went forth in a cleare, calme, and sun-shine evening, about an houre before the sunne did usually maske himselfe, unto the river, where finding of a mallard, he whistled off his faulcon, and how shee flew from him as if shee would never have turned head againe, yet presently upon a shoote came in, how then by degrees, by little and little, by flying about and about, shee mounted so high, untill shee had lessened herselfe to the view of the beholder, to the shape of a pigeon or partridge, and had made the height of the moone the place of her flight, how presently upon the landing of the fowle, shee came down like a stone and enewed it, and suddenly got up againe, and suddenly upon a second landing came downe againe, and missing of it, in the downcome recovered it beyond expectation, to the admiration of the beholder, at a long flight.'

The chief difficulty in the passage is as to the meaning of the verb enew, and this was for some time time a considerable puzzle. Though freely used as a technical term in the older manuals of hawking, none of them, so far as our examination went, afforded any explanation of the word. Thus Turbervile says:When your falcon is accustomed to flee for it, and will lye upon you at a great gate, or at a reasonable pitch, and will 'come and holde in the head at your voyce, and luring, then may you goe to the river where you shall finde any fowle, and there shall it behove you to use such policie that you may 'cover the fowle, and get your hawke to a good gate above the 'fowle. And when her head is in, then lay out the fowle, and 'cry hey gar, gar, gar. And if your falcon doe stoope them, ' and enew them once or twice, then quickly thrust your hand ' in your hawking bagge, and make her a traine with a ducke 'seeled.' And in the same connexion, in a short chapter on 'How to doe when your river hawke will take stand in a tree,' the word occurs again :- If you have a falcon which (as soone as hee hath once or twice stooped and enewed a fowle) will

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'take stand on a tree, you must as much as may be, eschue to flee in places where trees be.' Again, Markham, in his Treatise on Hawking, says: To make your hawke fly at 'fowle, which is called the flight at the river, you shall first 'whistle off an approved well quarried hawke that is a sure 'killer, and let her enew the fowle so long till she bring it to the plunge; then take her down and reward her.' But while thus using the term neither Turbervile nor Markham explains its meaning. From the examples of its use, however, it soon became apparent that enew was restricted to aquatic falconrythe flight at the river,' as it was called-while the probable etymology connected it directly with water. When a flight at water-fowl was determined on, the falconer, advancing towards the river, whistled off his hawk up the wind at some little distance from the spot where the duck or mallard, the heron or crane, was known to be. When the hawk had attained to her gate, or, in other words, reached a tolerable pitch in her flight, the falconer, with his dogs and assistants, made in' upon the fowl, compelling it to rise, and forcing the flight, if possible, in the direction of the land. This was technically termed land'ing' the fowl, a very vital point in aquatic falconry. Then, after some preliminary wheeling on the wing, offensive and defensive, the falcon would swiftly stoop on her prey, while the fowl, to avoid the fatal stroke, would instinctively make for the water again, where it would be for the moment comparatively safe. For in order that the falcon might stoop and strike with effect, it was necessary to have solid ground immediately below. If the fowl succeeded in swerving towards the water, she escaped with comparative impunity. In this case the hawk might stoop, and sometimes apparently even strike, without doing much damage, as the blow could not be followed up, the fowl taking refuge in diving. In this case the fowl was said to be enewed-the hawk enewed the fowl; that is, forced it back to the water again, from which it had to be driven afresh by the falconer and landed before the hawk could stoop and seize, or strike and truss her quarry. The fowl was often enewed once or twice before it was landed effectively enough for the final swoop. From this explanation of its meaning the etymology of enew will be apparent; and in support of it we have, in Kelham's Norman Dictionary, Enewance de draps, watering of cloth;' while Cotgrave gives eneauer, to turn into water,' and eneaué, watered, turned into water.' All these points are confirmed and verified by Drayton's vivid description of the sport, where, fortunately, the word occurs accompanied by an explanatory note. In his twentieth song

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