She euer puts, her best Apparell on.
Siluer and Golde, and nothing else is currant,
In Englands, in faire Englands happy Land:
All baser sorts of Mettalls, haue no Warrant;
Yet secretly they slip, from hand to hand.
If any such be tooke, the same is lost,
And pressently is nayled on a Post.
Which with Quick-siluer, being flourisht ouer,
Seemes to be perfect Siluer, to the showe: