That man will beguile, in your face that will smile, And court you with Cap and with knee: And while you’re in health, or swimming in wealth, Will vow that your Servant hee’l be. That man Ile commend, and would have to my friend If I could tell where to choose him, That wil help me at need, and stand me in stead, When I have occasion to use him. I doe not him fear, that wil swagger & sweare, And draw upon every cross word, And forthwith again if you be rough & plain, Be contented to put up his sword. Him valiant I deem, that patient can seem, And fights not in every place, But on good occasion, without seeking evasion[,] Durst look his proud Foe in the face. That Physician shal pass that is all for his glass And no other sign can scan, Who to practice did hop, from ‘Apothecaries’ shop, Or some old Physitians man. He Physick shal give to me whilst I live, That hath more strings to his Bow, Experience and learning, with due deserving, And will talk on no more then he know. That Lawyer I hate, that wil wrangle & prate, In a matter not worth the hearing: And if fees do not come, can be silent & dumb, Though the cause deserves but the clearing. That Lawyers for me, that’s not all for his fee, But will do his utmost endeavour To stand for the right, and tug against might, And lift the truth as with a Leaver. The Shark I do scorn, that’s only well born, And brags of his antient house, Yet his birth cannot fit, with money nor wit, But feeds on his friends like a Louse, That man I more prize, that by vertue doth rise Unto some worthy degree, That by breeding hath got, what by birth he had not, A carriage that’s noble and free. I care not for him, that in riches doth swimme, And flants it in every fashion, That brags of his Grounds and prates of his Hounds, And his businesse is all recreation. For him I will stand, that hath wit with his Land, And will sweat for his Countreys good, That will stick to the Lawes, and in a good cause Will adventure to spend his heart-blood. That man I despise, that thinks himself wise, Because he can talk at Table, And at a rich feast break forth a poor jest, To the laughter of others more able. No, he hath more wit, that silent can sit, Yet knowes well enough how to do it, That speaks with reason, & laughs in due seaso[n,] And when he is mov’d unto it. I care not a fly, for a house that’s built high, And yeelds not a cup of good beer, Where scraps you may find, while Venison’s in kind For a week or two in a yeare. He a better house keeps, that every night sleeps Under a Covert of thatch, Where’s good Beef from the Stall, and a fire in the Hall, Where you need not to scramble nor snatch.