The Cassacke beares his felt, to force away the raine:
Their bridles are not very braue, their saddles are but plaine.
No bits but snaffles all, of birch their saddles be,
Much fashioned like the Scottish seates, broad flakes to keepe the knee
From sweating of the horse, the pannels larger farre
And broader be then ours, they vse short stirrups for the warre:
For when the Russie is pursued by cruel foe,
He rides away, and suddenly betakes him to his boe,
And bends me but about in saddle as be sits,
And therewithall amids his race his following foe he hits.
Their bowes are very short, like Turkie bowes outright,
Of sinowes made with birchen barke, in cunning maner dight.
Small arrowes, cruell heads, that fell and forked bee,
Which being shot from out those bowes, a cruel way will flee.
They seldome vse to shoo their horse, vnlesse they ride
In post vpon the frozen flouds, then cause they shall not slide,
He sets a slender calke, and so he rides his way.
The horses of the countrey go good fourescore versts a day,
And all without the spurre, once pricke them and they skippe,
But goe not forward on their way, the Russie hath his whippe
To rappe him on the ribbes, for though all booted bee,
Yet shall you not a paire of spurres in all the countrey see.
The common game is chesse, almost the simplest will
Both giue a checke and eke a mate, by practise comes their skill.
Againe they dice as fast, the poorest rogues of all
Will sit them downe in open field, and there to gaming fall
Their dice are very small, in fashion like to those
Which we doe vse, he takes them vp, and ouer thumbe he throwes
Not shaking them a whit, they cast suspiciously,
And yet I deeme them voyd of art that dicing most apply.