If she read the contents of a pot of good ale.
It is like a belly-blast to a cold heart,
And warms and engenders the spirits vitale:
To keep them from domage all sp’rits owe their homage
To the Sp’rite of the buttery, a pot of good ale.
And down to the legs the vertue doth go,
And to a bad Foot-man is as good as a saile:
When it fill the Veins, and makes light the Brains,
No Lackey so nimble as a pot of good ale.
The naked complains not for want of a coat,