Where’s good Beef from the Stall, and a fire in the Hall,
Where you need not to scramble nor snatch.
Then lend me your Touch, for dissembling there’s much,
Ile try them before I do trust.
For a base needy Slave, in shew may be brave,
And a sliding Companion seem just.
The man that’s down right, in heart & in sight,
Whose life and whose looks doth agree,
That speaks what he thinks, and sleeps when he winks,
O that’s the companion for me.