A floorish vpon fancie As gallant a glose vpon so triflinge a text, as euer was written. Compiled by N.B. Gent. To which are annexed, manie pretie pamphlets, for pleasant heads to passe away idle time withal. By the same authour.

❧A prety Discourse of a hunted Hart.

THere is a pretye Chase, wherein doth rest a Hart, Wherin for his abode (poore wretch) he kéepes one only part. Adioyning to this chase, there is a prety place, where stands a Lodge, wherin doth dwel, the Lady of the chase. This Lady now and then for sport, somtime for spight, To hunt this s••lly harmlesse Harte, doth take a great delight. And how? with houndes (alas) and when she huntes for sport••, With little Whelps that cānot bite, she hunts him in this sort. Two little whelpes I say she casteth of at once, To course and eke to feare him with, as méetest for the nonce. And with these little whelps, she bringes him to the bay And then at bay she takes them vp, and let him goe his way. And if for spight she hunt, she takes another way: She casteth of no little whelps, to bring him to the bay. But cruell byting Curres: at once she castes of all, And with those cruell cankred Curres, she followes him to fall: And being (falne poore wretch) pyning in extreame payne, She casteth of her cruell curres, and lets him ryse agayne Untill she hunts agayne, to make her selfe like sporte, And then euen as she is disposde, she huntes him in lyke sorte. Thus liues this harmlesse Harte, opprest with endlesse wo, In daunger still of death by Dogges, and yet cannot dye so. And neyther daye nor night, he féedeth but in feare, That these same Dogs should lye in wayte, to course him euery where. Thus restlesse restes this Harte, and knowes not how to rest, Whose hope of death in midst of course, is it that likes him best. God sende him better rest, or spéedy death at least, To rid him of his great vnrest, and bréede him quyet rest.