From The Love Chase'

ACT II. SCENE III.

CONSTANCE.

Worthy sir,

Souls attract souls, when they're of kindred vein.

The life that you love, I love. Well I know,

'Mongst those who breast the feats of the bold chase, You stand without a peer; and for myself

I dare avow 'mong such, none follows them
With heartier glee than I do.

WILDRAKE. Churl were he

That would gainsay you, madam !

CONSTANCE-Courtesying. What delight
To back the flying steed, that challenges
The wind for speed !-seems native more of air
Than earth!-whose burden only lends him fire!-
Whose soul in his task, turns labour into sport!
Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now!
He takes away my breath!--He makes me reel !
I touch not earth-I see not-hear not ---All
Is ecstacy of motion !

WILDRAKE. You are used,

I see, to the chase.

CONSTANCE. I am, Sir!

Then the leap,

To see the saucy barrier, and know

The mettle that can clear it! Then your time

To prove you master of the manage.

You keep him well together for a space,

Now

Both horse and rider braced as you were one,
Scanning the distance then you give him rein,
And let him fly at it, and o'er he goes

Light as a bird on wing.

WILDRAKE. 'Twere a bold leap,

I see, that turn'd you, madam,

CONSTANCE. Sir, you're good!

And then the hounds, sir. Nothing I admire
Beyond the running of the well-train'd pack.
The training's every thing! Keen on the scent!
At fault none losing heart!--but all at work!
None leaving his task to another!-answering
The watchful huntsman's caution, check, or cheer
As steed his rider's rein! Away they go !
How close they keep together!-What a pack !
Nor turn nor ditch nor stream divides them-as
They moved with one intelligence, act, will!
And then the concert they keep up!-enough
To make one tenant of the merry-wood,

To list their jocund music!

WILDRAKE. You describe

The huntsman's pastime to the life!

CONSTANCE. I love it!

To wood and glen, hamlet and town, it is
A laughing holiday!--Not a hill-top

But's then alive !-Footmen with horsemen vie,
All earth's astir, roused with the revelry

Of vigour, health, and joy !-Cheer awakes cheer,
While Echo's mimic tongue, that never tires,
Keeps up the hearty din! Each face is then
Its neighbour's glass-where gladness sees itself,
And, at the bright reflection, grows more glad!
Breaks into tenfold mirth !-laughs like a child!
Would make a gift of its heart, it is so free!
Would scarce accept a kingdom, 'tis so rich!
Shakes hands with all, and vows it never knew
That life was life before!

The Love Chase. JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES, 1837.

If there was a difficulty in selecting the most interesting extracts from among the many allusions to sport in verse, the work of deciding which songs and ballads should be included or rejected is no light one.

The impression that a person must be a song-writer if capable of placing a capital letter before every five or six words, and ending those lines with terminations which rhyme more or less accurately, is common; but we must study songs of sport to realise fully the reductio ad absurdum of such a proposition. Gleaned from all sources, collections, magazines, newspapers and manuscripts, under the heading of every conceivable sport, we have more than ten thousand songs ranging over the last 450 years. Many of these are but variations of the same verses reproduced over and over again; in the first edition they are often amusing on account of their quaintness, but the intended improvements have slowly abolished the one small charm they had, till the end of perfection leaves us in possession of pure and unadulterated trash.

It is not easy to determine what fiend first made Aurora the patron saint of hunting songs, but it may be fairly taken for granted that in one out of three cases she will be found mixed up in the first two lines. Sometimes she is coming

forth or about to appear; perhaps she may be summoning someone, and even displaying her charms or having them neglected; in fact, doing a hundred and one possible and impossible things which enable the writer to work in such rhymes as dawn, thorn, lawn, and horn in this way :

Aurora, fair goddess of dawn,

Is gilding the point of a thorn

And, roused by the sound of our horn,
Displays all her charms on the lawn.

No sooner, however, have we settled that Aurora is, and has for some reason the right to be, considered our patron saint, than we begin to be doubtful, for we find that Phœbus and Sol run her very closely; for while Aurora is appearing, Phoebus is spreading his beams over the streams, or mounting his car under a star, whilst Diana is eager for war.

Sol, on the other

hand, seems to be a lower-minded being of the same kind, who is usually either doffing his nightcap, squinting, winking his eye, or rousing himself from somebody's lap--for preference Hebe's. We have, it is true, for a change now and then a visit from Cynthia or Hesperus, but this as a rule is only when the poet likes a little rugged scansion.

The following four lines, taken at random, will give a fair idea (allowing for variations) of the commencement of some two thousand songs :—

Fain longer would indolent Phœbus recline,
Neglecting Aurora's bright charms,

But the hale glowing troop of Diana combine
To rouse him from Sleep's languid arms.

It is little exaggeration to say that in one collection of over four hundred sporting songs, from which we have selected about one per cent., Aurora and Phoebus have each close on one hundred appearances, Sol rather fewer, and the minor deities in proportion. Moreover, the compilers of such interesting collections, not satisfied with five or six versions of one song, not infrequently have printed word for word the same verses twice over, as if it were impossible to have too much of so good a thing.

Having given just a rough idea of the kind of songs we do not intend to reproduce, we will now again turn to the still large collection before us.

The oldest of these songs are probably to be found in the Roxburghe and various collections of ballads belonging to the British Museum and other libraries. The way in which these stray leaflets or broad-sheets have been preserved and bound together is too well known and too lengthy a matter to go into here; for the sake, however, of those who have not had the opportunity of seeing some of the originals, we reproduce one here. Most of these ballads, however, are much older in all probability than the paper on which they are printed, many having been handed down either in writing or by word of mouth, and as they were reproduced every few years, it is quite possible that some of the earlier editions have long been extinct. The woodcuts on the top of many of them are very quaint, and were often used quite indiscriminately; for instance, if the printer had no hunting scene, he would place a couple of lovers above 'The Fox Hunt ;' or, vice versâ, the fox and hounds over a love song; sometimes even, if the blocks got broken or defaced, a part of one engraving and a part of another over either or both. These so-called illustrated songs were very popular in their day, being sold for a low price about the streets and in the various shops. They doubtless would have been even more prized if there had been a greater number of people able to read them.

It must be borne in mind that these ballads are seldom dated, and as many of them have been collected in recent years, the only clue to when they were composed must either be sought from the print, paper, illustration, or in the matter itself. The Rev. J. W. Ebsworth, who is the greatest authority on this subject, has done much by the most patient research to throw a light on the darkness, and we are indebted to him both for his works and his kindly personal assistance. Nevertheless, we have often, after trying every means available, been obliged to rely on very slight evidence, more especially in those songs