"_Theseus._ Go, one of you, find out the forester; For now our observation is perform'd: And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds. Uncouple in the western valley; let them go!-- Despatch, I say, and find the forester.-- We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction. _Hippolyta._ I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding: for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry. I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. _Theseus._ My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly: Judge when you hear." [Illustration: GARDEN AT NEW PLACE] The talk of the hunters about the dogs in _The Taming of the Shrew_ (ind. 1. 16) is in the same vein:-- "_Lord._ Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds-- Brach Merriman, the poor cur, is emboss'd-- And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. _1 Hunter._ Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the merest loss, And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent: Trust me, I take him for the better dog. _Lord._ Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet, I would esteem him worth a dozen such. But sup them well, and look unto them all; To-morrow I intend to hunt again." In the _Merry Wives of Windsor_ (i. 1. 96) Page defends his greyhound against the criticisms of Slender, and Shallow takes his part:-- "_Slender._ How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say, he was outrun on Cotsall. _Page._ It could not be judged, sir. _Slender._ You'll not confess, you'll not confess. _Shallow._ That he will not.--'T is your fault, 't is your fault: 't is a good dog. _Page._ A cur, sir. _Shallow._ Sir, he 's a good dog, and a fair dog; can there be more said? he is good and fair." _Cotsall_ (or _Cotswold_) is an allusion to the Cotswold downs in Gloucestershire, celebrated for coursing (hunting the hare), for which their fine turf fitted them, and also for other rural sports. The description of the horse in _Venus and Adonis_ (259), a youthful work of Shakespeare's, is famous:--