And placed at the Tables vpper ende;
Not for thine owne sake, but thy faithfull frende.
But if you want your Ladies louely grace,
And haue not wherewithall to pay your shot,
Your Hostis pressently will step in Place,
You are a Stranger (Sir) I know you not:
By trusting Diuers, I am run in Det;
Therefore of mee, nor meate nor Bed you get.
O who can then, expresse the worthie praise,
Which faire Pecunia iustly doeth desarue?