46 
The Animal-Lore of Shahspeare’s Time. 
a close-mouthed dog, he followeth the scent well” 
[Every Man out of his Humour, iv. 4). And again, “ No, 
an I had, all the lime hounds , o’ the city should have 
drawn after you by the scent rather” [Bartholomew 
Fair, i. 1). 
Mr. Low, in his work The Domesticated Animals of 
Great Britain, 1846 (p. 739), is of opinion that the 
hounds described by Theseus, in Midsummer Night’s 
Dream, were talbots. The talbot, he tells us, was a 
breed of bloodhound, differing in some slight peculiarities 
from the ordinary type. Unfortunately the author gives 
no authorities for his information. 
“ The hounds employed in England for the chase of the wild deer 
were generally termed raches. They likewise received the name of 
talbots—a word of uncertain origin, perhaps merely the proper name 
of some person, or of some place where a good breed was reared. 
They were a race of large dogs, nearly of the size of mastiffs, and with 
something of the same aspect. They had the muzzle broad, the 
upper lip hanging over the lower, the ears long and pendulous, the 
chest wide, with a kind of dewlap, and the limbs muscular and 
crooked. Their voice was deep and sonorous, and they were endowed 
with an exquisite sense of smell. They were far inferior in speed to 
the modern hunting dogs, but excelled them in their adherence to the 
track of the game, and their pertinacity in pursuing it. At first only 
a few of the more experienced hounds were let into the covert, in 
order to find the game, when they manifested unrivalled sagacity and 
powers of scent. Disregarding all inferior quarry, they could discri¬ 
minate, by the smell alone, what was called the warrantable game 
from the fawns which were not to be hunted, and the hinds when 
out of season for the chase. The instant a dog caught the scent 
he opened mouth, and was joined in chorus by his fellows. A few 
lines, often quoted, of our great dramatic poet, describe to the life the 
ancient stag-hounds of England 
“ ‘ 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 
