In the following year the bull-fight was repeated, and the zebras re-appeared in the spectacle of _Aladdin_. After the Amphitheatre was closed the stud appeared at Drury Lane, instead of going into the provinces; and this arrangement between Elliston and the lessees of Astley’s was repeated in more than one season. Elliston’s biographer relates that when the stud was engaged for Croly’s _Enchanted Courser_, the horses and their grooms were at the stage door of Drury Lane Theatre, at the time fixed for the first rehearsal, but there was no one to direct the important share which they were to take in the performance. A note was sent to Ducrow, who replied that his agreement with Elliston only related to the horses. This was found to be correct, though undoubtedly an oversight on the part of Elliston, the Drury Lane manager, who had to make a second agreement with Ducrow for his personal services in superintending the training of the horses, and the general arrangement of the scenes in which they were to be introduced. The introduction of horses on the stage of Drury Lane was the subject of a letter to Elliston from Thomas Wooler, of _Yellow Dwarf_ fame, from which the following passages, are extracted, as bearing upon the long subsequent production of _Richard III._ at Astley’s, while under the management of William Cooke. ‘What think you of mounting Shakespeare’s heroes, as the bard himself would rejoice they should be? Why not allow the wand of Ducrow to aid the representation of his dramas, as well as the pencil of Stanfield? “Saddle White Surrey” in good earnest, and, as from The Surrey you once banished these animals, and have taken them up at Drury Lane, think of doing them justice. I fancy your giving up the circle in St George’s Fields, and bringing your stable into a Theatre Royal, a little inconsistent; but no matter, it is done, and reminds me of a friend of mine, who swept away his poultry-yard from his suitable villa at Fulham, and yet kept cocks and hens in Fleet Street. ‘But to return; instead of niggardly furnishing Richard and Richmond with armies that do not muster the force of a serjeant’s guard, give them an efficient force of horse and foot. Your two-legged actors would be in arms against this project, but disregard their jealousy, and remember that four to two are two to one in your favour. Richard should march to the field in the full panoply of all your cavalry, and not trudge like a poor pedlar, whom no one would dream of “interrupting in his expedition,” He might impressively dismount in compliment to the ladies; and when in the field he cries, “My kingdom for a horse!” the audience might fairly deem such a price only a fair offer for the recovery of so noble an animal. The audience would wish Hotspur to manage his roan as well as his lady, and though amongst your spectators there might be perhaps a grey mare, yet she would be content that Hotspur should be the “better horse” for her night’s amusement.’